


Perplexity

by mattymerlotte (orphan_account)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, pure fluff basically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 15:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 53,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1514861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/mattymerlotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I, Michael Clifford, only have twenty days or so left of my freshman year in college. My experience so far is the definition of mediocre. Until one Friday night when Calum decided to go out partying that I chose to do laundry and while patiently waiting for my clothes in walked a tall blonde boy with shimmering blue eyes. Immediately caught off guard I somehow speak fluent English and talk to him. Mumbling and muttering every word I'm stumbling with each sentence I let out. He tells me his name is Luke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Its three A.M. Calum is out and I'm on my third cup of coffee since ten. I'm wide awake, and doing laundry on a Friday night seemed like the only acceptable task at this hour.

I'm counting down the days until I sleep in my own bed again.

Twenty to be exact.

I walk into the laundry room, without dropping my card this time which is how I usually enter this place. The clock on the dryer says two minutes.

And I thought I timed this perfectly.

I know I probably won't see Cal at all tonight. I also know that I won't be going asleep until I see the sun peaking over the horizon. Might as well do laundry.

I take a seat at one of the tables that is right in the middle of the laundry room. I pull out my phone to play the latest and most addicting game to pass the remaining time.

It sounds awfully loud in this small, enclosed space, and I realize that there are two machines cycling at once, which means I'm not the loneliest person on the planet right now.

Once the buzzer on the dryer goes off I get up to see the damage. And as I suspected, it needs a few more minutes. I shove my damp clothes back into the dryer. I push my coins into the machine and take a seat, propping my legs up on the chair across from me. I figure that it doesn't make sense to walk all the way back to my dorm. I’ll just wade this out.

Suddenly, the door flings right open and in walks a tall boy; sandy blonde hair and eyes brighter than an ocean, wrapped in a grey and red plaid flannel. He holds a laundry basket and stares right at me and I feel a slight smirk cross my face.

"Massive wild Friday?” I declare, my voice sounding like an announcer for a sports team. I laugh at my own joke but he just gives me a slight nod in return. The smile disappearing far from my face.

"Something like that..." he says, opening the dryer and checking his clothes.

Once he sees that his laundry isn't ready either, he takes a seat on the other side of the table where my feet are propped.

And I get a closer look at him.

His face on the surface, has absolutely no flaws. His skin is creamy porcelain, and in contrast to his eyes, make him look almost cartoonish. A small lip stud is hooked on the left side of his bottom lip. The sandy blonde hair resting at the top of his head is styled in a slight quiff, but mostly looks like a mess, and sticks out from the grey beanie that he keeps adjusting and tugging on.

He doesn't even look at me, but around me, and I feel like I'm in a play and I forgot my own line. My palms begin to sweat and my heart begins to race.

"I'm Michael," I say, the words flooding right out of my mouth and my hand sticking straight out for him to reach.

His eyes finally meet mine and I feel my chest begin to rise and fall dramatically.

And in an instant I close my eyes, regretting him shaking my hand, because there is a pool of sweat beading across my palm.

I'm _so_ sorry, I think apologetically.

"Luke," Blondie says.

I nod my head, not sure how to proceed.

It's been over seven months since I've felt this way, and the last time this happened I didn't win. I lost a big game. Lost what I thought was everything. I can't afford to have this feeling once again.

Our intense conversation deadpans and I have the audacity to ask him what his major is. Pretty much a social standard for any college student meeting someone for the first time.

Luke shrugs, "I'm actually undeclared. What's yours?"

"Music."

Luke's eyes twinkle when I say it and a smile spreads across his face.

"Dude, no way! That's so sick. What instruments do you play? Do you sing? What do you wanna do with your degree?" Luke is rapid with his questions and I wasn't prepared with any answers at the rate his was talking, but one at a time I answer him. I tell him that I play guitar and piano for the most part, but for my major I need to know basically everything else. I'm working on that though. I'm improving at a good rate. I tell him I've sang before, but for the most part its nails on a chalkboard or a baby wailing when it wants attention. I tell him that I can't do much with my degree but I really want to write jingles for commercials and that actually makes him laugh hysterically.

"What?" he exclaims between laughs. "Why would anyone want to do _that_?"

I feel my eyes roll and I don't mean the reaction but its automatic at this point and I hate explaining myself. I wish I never said anything about it really.

"You can't laugh at me, man," I say. Luke nods, allowing me to proceed. "So, like in middle school I was dating this girl and she wanted to go see that movie _Juno_ and I'm going to assume you've seen it or at least heard of it. So anyway, the douchebag dad guy that is adopting the baby wrote jingles and at the time it sounded so badass. From then on that's been my dream and the rest is history."

Luke isn't laughing anymore, but his jaw is hanging unhinged from where it once was.

"That's awesome though," he says, clearly impressed. "How did things with the girl go after you told her you wanted to be a jingle writer?" he jokes.

"Turns out she wasn't my type," I reply.

Just at the most convenient time, the timer of my laundry goes off and I realize how much I don't want to leave my seat. I want to talk with Luke about music and hear about his interests and passions and tell more embarrassing stories about my life. Mostly I just want to hear him laugh. I want to his see his face light up and the dimples that appear when he smiles too wide. I want to see him readjust his beanie just a few more times.

But it's close to four A.M now and this scenario of sitting here until the sun comes up is becoming less and less of a reality and more of a dream.

I reluctantly pull myself out of my seat and grab the white basket to my left. I move slowly, filling in with small talk about how late it's getting and how we both can't believe that we we're doing our laundry at the same time on a Friday night.

Luke shakes his head. "We're just that lame of human beings I guess."

I nod. "You got that right. Well..." I begin not wanting to say goodbye. "Guess I'll see you around then. Good luck with that laundry. Hope it dries this time."

"Thanks," Luke says grinning. I notice his smile favoring his left cheek.

I'm still hesitant leaving this boxed in laundry room that smells more like feet than fresh linens. I abandon Luke at his post, alone, with the only company of his phone. His head down scrolling through whatever social media that is so captivating.

Before I'm completely out of sight of the laundry room, I look back and see him glancing up at me. A spring of hope surging through my whole body.

I practically skip back to my dorm and dance around my living room before entering my double bedroom that I share with Calum.

Who is actually home.

Face down, still in his clothes from earlier today. Shoes included.

"Michael!" he shouts, sitting upright and clearly still drunk by the tone his uses and way he can barely sit straight. "Why the fuck we're you doing laundry?" Cal points at my laundry basket as if I had no idea what he was talking about.

"Because you left me here again," I scoff, mimicking his drunken tone.

Calum rolls his eyes and flings himself back on his bed. "Sorry, man. Next time, alright?"

I love giving Cal such a hard time. I really don't care if he goes out and drinks till dawn and comes home with his obnoxious alter ego. I don't care if he doesn't take me to his parties. He's been my best friend here, even though we're roommates and basically polar opposites in every way. Of course his frat came first for the first few months of school but after initiation we've been inseparable. Practically a miracle really.

I guess Calum falling asleep is my queue to leave my laundry in the basket until tomorrow. I change into clothes to sleep in and crawl into my bed with my laptop propped up on my chest as I begin to watch a television show on Netflix, just not ready to fall asleep yet.

"How was your night?" asks Calum, still face down on his bed. I'm surprised he's this coherent. I bet he sobered up on his ride home.

"Alright," I say, trying not to sound too eager about meeting Luke.

"Filthy liar," he mumbles and rolls over on his side. I hear nothing else from Calum until tiny snores start coming out of him only seconds later.

It's not long until I feel my own eyes become heavy and a dreamlike state washes over the back of eyelids.

I dream of the boy with the eyes that are more blue than skies and hair the color of the sun.


	2. Chapter 2

 

I woke up only once, right when the sun was shining it's brightest through our blinds. Calum was standing on his desk in front of the window and was thumbtacking a blanket to cover the ablaze sun peeking through. I felt like I was in a daze so that may or may not have been a dream. I just remember rolling back over on my side and falling asleep.

A dream. I have a dream about Luke. Specifically kissing Luke and that's all. It's simple and sweet and I don't want it to end. I wake up with wood harder than cement. Calum laughs at me from across the room. He's dressed but changed out of his clothes from last night. He has head phones in and is typing away on his computer. "I'm going to leave so you can get that rid of that, man."

I can only groan in response and throw my blanket over my head and yell into my pillow about how much I hate him.

Only I don't. At all.

I told Calum right away that I was into guys and he was so accepting about it. He didn't flinch or cringe or joke about me not making a move on him – which is what usually happens. Calum's acceptance was a grand gesture, a blessing almost, and he doesn't even realize it. I dread telling someone even in this day in age where people are more “accepting” than ever. It's difficult to gage their reaction and I knew I couldn't hide it from my roommate. 

Immediately after Cal leaves our bedroom I walk into the bathroom to shower; hitting two birds with one stone. Once I see the water that is tinted blue running down the drain I realize that I need to color my hair again. It's currently dark navy blue. It used to be almost black but now the color is running out and it looks almost greenish-grey, matching my eyes. I can't have that. Pale blue makes me look sick.

Once out of the shower I write myself a note that I need to buy hair dye later on.

I throw on some clothes from my hamper next to my bed and look at the clock. It reads 1:03. I slept for almost six hours, pretty good time. I wonder how Cal's hangover is doing. He seemed pretty awake when I saw him, but that might just be the high he got from having a good night.

Once I leave our bedroom and enter our cramped living area he sits in front the television. His friend Ashton sitting next to him. They're watching _The Office_ on the tiny screen in front of them.

Ashton is wearing a tie dye shirt, khaki shorts, and a purple bandana wrapped around his head. His blonde curls sticking out from the purple band. A signature look by Ashton Irwin himself. He met Calum on an intermural soccer team and was a pledge brother with Calum until Ashton quit. They're pretty good friends, mostly for parties so I'm surprised to see them sober together watching TV. Although it _is_ _The Office_ , Ashton's favorite show. Cal always complains he quotes it too often in everyday conversation.

"Hey!" Ashton shouts as I enter the room. "What's up Michael? What'd you do last night?"

I shrug and tell him about my laundry escapade, in extreme detail. They laugh at my little “crush” but quickly move on. I’m thankful.

"We're gonna go to the caf in a little bit, wanna come?"

"Sure, I could go for some food."

"Are you gonna smoke?" Cal asks jokingly and I roll my eyes. They think they're so clever about making jokes about how much weed I go through, but I can't help it.

Actually, I probably could.

But I can't seem to eat, sleep, or be in a social environment without it. I try to explain to them that it's for my nerves, it relaxes me. It's should probably be considered a problem, but I've been good about limiting myself. They refuse to give me that credit. For the first few months of school it was almost every day, twice a day. Now it's once only on the weekends, Friday not included, and once a day. It could be worse but again, they won't let it go.

"Nah," I say and take a seat on the carpet since Calum and Ashton are taking up the couch.

I pull my legs up to my chest and scroll through my phone. I imagine Luke's name popping up in my contacts but it never happens. Of course not, because I'm an idiot and didn't give him my number. I mean he could totally be straight, but I could have tried at least.

After the episode is over the three of us walk on over to the cafeteria, where dreams go to die. It's terrible. One time Calum swears he found a meal worm in his rice once. I wasn't with him apparently but I think I could take his word for it.

On our way to the caf, Ashton ends up tripping and falling just by crossing the street and stumbling over the curb. He lands right on his face and Cal and I almost die laughing.

"Here," Calum says sticking out his hand from Ashton to reach.

I can barely move and my whole body is shaking from laughter. Ashton too seems to be trembling from his own fit. Calum is the only one that is keeping his composure. I'm bent over holding my stomach as Cal finally pulls Ashton up. We can barely make it to the caf without keeling over again with laughter.

Once we actually open the doors to the cafeteria I try to decide what I actually want. The smells waft through the air and I end up grabbing three slices of pepperoni pizza with a mountain high pile of parmesan cheese.

I grab a table near the entrance along with a cup of Mountain Dew. The slime colored liquid fizzes and dances in the glass.

"Where's Calum?" Ashton says, sliding into a chair on the opposite side of the table. "Wait, don't answer that. I don't know why I asked it," he continues.

Calum is infamous for one thing, sandwiches. The only thing he eats when he comes here are paninis, for lunch and dinner. And it's always the same thing: turkey, Swiss cheese, and pesto aioli on white. He's currently standing near the panini maker waiting for his sandwich to be grilled. He's scrolling through a feed on his phone while he waits.

I scarf down my three slices before Calum even takes a seat. Ashton is chomping away at the huge salad on his plate.

For the most part, the cafeteria is really dead. After all, it's Saturday at two. I notice a few regulars, a few people from some of my classes. And then my eyes land on a newer face.

My hand automatically slams on the table. "Oh my God," I say aloud. Calum and Ashton exchange a look then give me a weird face.

"What?" they both say quizzically.

I shake my head. "That guy over there. That’s the guy from last night. The one I met while doing laundry."

"At three in the morning? Who does weird shit like that besides you?" Calum practically shouts.

"Wait," Ashton chimes in, more calmly than Cal. "You say that like..."

My eyes go wide and I nod my head. "Yeah, Ashton, thanks for being so nonchalant about that. The answer is yes, but also no. I don't know if he is."

Although my group of friends here know I'm gay it's still not something I want to talk about. They might be perfectly okay talking about it in the open, but I'm still conscious of my surroundings.

"No problem," Ashton says, giving me a thumbs up and going back to eating his salad.

"Well, invite him over here, idiot," Cal calls out.

"Fine!"

I really wanted to have Luke join us, since he's sitting by himself, and I'm glad Calum said something so inviting.  

Luke is wearing a black shirt that hugs his arms and tight jeans, no beanie this time. He's casually eating a bowl of cereal and scrolling through his phone. He doesn't notice me until I sit in the seat in front of him. He's startled but looks at me, giving me that award winning smile.

"Hey!" he says in a welcoming tone.

_Good I'm not bothering him._

"Come join us," I reply, pointing to Cal and Ashton over near the entrance. Luke doesn't say anything immediately, he just kind of winces.

"No, it's alright. I don't want to bug you."

"I invited you, you idiot. Come sit with us!" I pressure further. Hopefully he's just being nice and doesn't want to bothersome in anyway.

He shrugs his shoulders and gets out of his chair, taking his plate and glass of water in his grasp. I ask him how his day is and he says it's alright. It's just small talk until we get back to the table.

"Guys, this is Luke. Luke, this is Calum and Ashton," I say, pointing at the ridiculous morons sitting next to each other.

They're both friendly and welcoming and I'm thankful for that. They could take advantage of this moment and make things awkward and be dicks, but they're inviting. They ask Luke where he's from, what his major is, what he wants to do with his life, what he does for fun and so on. We're talking back and forth, with laughs thrown in the mix, when Calum asks if I'm going with him to a party tonight.

"I'm okay," I reply blatantly.

He cocks his head to the side. "What? You promised me last night you would go with me the next time I went!" Calum accuses me. Honestly, I didn't think he would remember.

"Yeah, well... I'm fine."

"What about you, Luke?" Calum asks and my eyes grow wider than I thought they could.

"I'm not sure. I've never been to a party and the school year is almost over..." Luke's voice is soft and quiet, like he doesn't want us to hear. Like maybe he should change that before his freshman year is already up. We all exchange glances around the table, knowing damn well that all of us are going to that party tonight with Luke and it'll be the best experience he ever had.

Calum is smiling to himself. "Oh, yeah, this is going to be a night you'll never forget. Although you probably will," he jokes, chuckling and looking smug like an idiot.

"Have you ever been drunk before?" Ashton asks.

Luke shakes his head no and I feel my cheeks begin to turn red. He just seems so innocent, which is so contradictory to his appearance. I feel like we're going to corrupt him.

And I can't wait.

We finish up our poor tasting meals and head back to our perspective dorms. We plan to meet up at Calum and my place around eight and I actually give Luke my number just in case. I’m practically shaking from nerves. In the mean time I have to work on homework for statistics that is due at midnight tonight. That's one of the best things about college, online homework. You find all the answers online. What a joke.

By the time I've completed fifty problems on a calculator, wrote half an essay for English, and ate almost a full bag of Doritos I realize it's seven o'clock.

Calum barges into our bedroom and throws himself on his bed. A backpack makes a _thud_ once it makes contact with his bed. He points to it and mouths, "Alcohol." I give him a thumbs up and return to scrolling the internet.

"So, this Luke... I didn't get to say this earlier, but I like him. You did well. He's gonna be a shit-show tonight. I'm so stoked!" he exclaims. That grin appearing on his face once again. "You gonna make a move?"

I throw that around in my head a little before I answer. "No, probably not. I don't think he's into me."

Calum's jaw drops. "Okay!" he shouts in a sarcastic tone. "Both me and Ashton saw you today. And we _both_ believe it didn't look that way."

"Whatever you think, Cal."

I throw on a red flannel, ripped black jeans and Vans. There's not much to do with my hair so I leave that alone. I make sure I don't smell and look in the mirror. I don't look too bad, so I feel like I'm in good shape.

Calum is wearing a white bro tank, black jeans and Vans.

I feel like college guys don't have much to choose from in these situations. We all look the same.

Calum's words echo through my mind. Is he right? Is there actually something there? Or am I just hanging on to false hope? Whatever the situation may be all I know is that Luke is consuming what's left that my brain isn't focused on. I find myself constant daydreaming about his voice. His smile. The dimples in his cheeks. The curve of his lips and the lip ring that's ever so taunting.

No, no, no. I can't go down that road.

I just need to think about having a good time tonight. I need to come to terms with the idea that Luke may not be the person I'm imagining in my mind. I learned in psychology this semester that it's obviously not a good behavior to have.

Soon there's a knock at our front door and searching through the peep hole I see its Ashton. Seeing him doesn't make my pulse stop speeding. There is no way I can survive tonight when I'm freaking out about opening the door to see Luke.

"Is your boy here yet?" he proclaims once he walks through the door.

"Ashton, you fucking idiot. That would be so embarrassing if he was here, you dick," I say hitting him in the arm pretty hard. Ashton bites his tongue at me and saunters into our room where Cal is still hiding. _Ashton, you coward_.

The next knock that rasps at the door sends me into an emotional rollercoaster in a matter of seconds. I know this isn't a date, but just being around Luke makes me nervous. I can barely hold the doorknob in my hand as I turn it.

In walks in Luke, dressed in cutoff shorts, a Nirvana shirt, and the grey beanie from the night before. His shirt hugs his biceps and I can't help, but stare. I manage to mumble a slight, "Hey," and nod for him to come inside. Luke waddles in with his hands submerged in his pockets.

"Nice place. Who's your roommate?" Luke asks.

"Oh, Calum. The one we had lunch with. With the dark hair."

Our whole place is a mess and I realize that Luke was being sarcastic when he said we had a nice place. It's anything but nice. Calum has been notorious for throwing a few parties here himself and our room has suffered quite a bit. Basically I no longer can set things on our coffee table. Not to mention the strange looking stain on the wall that has no explanation and both Calum and I refuse to clean it.

"Cal!" I yell from the living room. "What are we having tonight?"

It takes him a while to respond but I finally hear him scream, "Captain!" from the next room over.

I'm rejecting the idea of inviting Luke into my room due to the alarming sight that comes along with seeing our trashed bedroom.

"You okay with that?" I ask Luke.

He barely shakes his head in response.

I squint at him. "You sure? You don't see so psyched at the idea of going to a party. I don't wanna hold you to anything you don't have any interest in doing. It's totally cool if you want to go sober too. Drinking is not all that it's made out to be. The first time I –”

"Michael," Luke interrupts abruptly. I'm startled. "It's okay. I want to go with you. It sounds fun."

My palms start to sweat from the sound of my name leaving his lips.

"Okay," I say.

Calum finally walks out of our room holding a huge handle of Captain Morgan. Ashton with a liter of Coke. I grab the few shot glasses that we have: one from Disneyland, two that are solid colors, and one in the shape of a dick.

Luke immediately starts laughing at the sight of the dick shot glass.

"That's great!" he says.

"It's Michael's," replies Calum. I can only scoff in response.

"Alright, let's do this!" shouts Ashton.

We pour our shots and the soda into red solo cup. Before we swig them back I soon realize that Luke probably has no idea what's going on. And I don't want to baby him about this, but after all he hasn't done this before. I need to prepare him.

"Okay, so what you're gonna do is take a sip of Coke, swallow –" Calum and Ashton giggle, "Then you're gonna take your shot and take another sip of Coke. It doesn't taste very good, but trust me, it'll be worth it in the end."

Luke nods and Ashton rolls his eyes, immediately taking his shot of Captain. Ashton doesn't like to fuck around. He likes to say that he goes "hard." Yeah, _okay_. I'll believe that when I see it.

In the mean time we watch one of the hockey playoff games while we're pacing ourselves. Some team that Luke seems to like is winning. I should file this away for a future reference, but I simply can't focus. I'm too busy consuming my mind with him. His voice, the happiness that is spewing from his lips. After forty-five minutes we're three shots deep and his laughter is getting louder. Since this is his first time drinking things affect him a little faster.

"Hey, Luke how you doing? You good?" Cal says from the other side of the room, not looking up from his phone.

"Yeah, I'm great!" he replies, his voice full of cheer. His cheeks are beginning to glow with a pinkish tint. I can tell he's feeling warm.

Ashton says he's gonna call his roommate to take us to the party. It's only a few minutes away, two miles or so. Before we leave we take another shot and end up bringing a water bottle full of Captain and a water bottle full of Coke for the card ride there.

I'm starting to feel heavy. My body is pretty small and I can basically feel the alcohol flowing through my veins. My eyes weighing me down and my motions feel slow, but I feel _good_. 

"Luke, you feeling tipsy?" I say, actually giggling. "You're pretty quiet."

"No, are you kidding? I feel so great. I can't stop smiling."

This makes me laugh pretty hard. He should probably be done for the night, maybe one more before we go inside, but that's all. He doesn't need any more alcohol in his system. We don't know how he'll react to it. Although right now, he seems like every other drunken frat guy that's gonna be there.

Ashton pays his roommate ten dollars and promises to get a number for a girl to him. Not necessarily a promising deal, but it gets us to the house.

While we're in the car Luke practically leans on me. Not even for support. I can tell he has his balance perfectly fine. He doesn't look at me all the way there, but I want him too. I want him to see me the same way I see him, but I never see that happening at this point. False hope is the only thing that's leading my expectations.

In the car, Luke is full of bubbles. He seems to bounce from one conversation to the next, talking about God knows what. His laughter is contagious and giddy. Luke seems to be handling himself really well.

I take a swig of my bottle, not following it with any coke and the thick syrupy taste stings my throat. I hate dark alcohol, it always makes me feel weighed down. The cars that fly by on the way there seem to be going a mile a minute. I'm captivated by the outside world until a soft voice brings me back to reality.

It's Luke.

"Are you alright?" he asks, calm. No jokes, just sincerity.

"Of course, yeah," I practically whisper. He nudges my shoulder and smiles. His lip ring stringing along the side of his mouth. And again, all I can think about is that stud poking me as we kiss. That thought is kept in the back of my mind with the rest of my daydreams.

The car finally comes to a stop and pulls up to a curb. “Now, get the fuck out of my car, you morons,” calls out Ashton’s roommate. I think his name is Jack, but I don’t remember. Maybe it’s Zack?

Ashton hops out of the front seat as we pile out and comes to the driver side window. He leans on the car with his forearms and his head place obnoxiously in front of his roommate.

“Thanks, here’s this,” he says handing him a ten dollar bill. “And I’ll talk to Ashley for you.”

“Yeah, whatever Ashton. Get the hell outta here,” the roommate retorts.

Ashton doesn’t respond but tries to give his roommate an awkward hug from outside the car. He scoffs and turns the wheel, peeling away from the curb.

I take one last drink of my Captain and chase it with the rest of the Coke. I put the bottles in the backpack that Ashton brought.

“You ready for your first party?” Calum screams to Luke, grabbing his shoulders in his hands and shaking him. “Man, I’m so glad you’re popping your cherry with us.” Cal hooks his arm around Luke and leads him inside. Luke laughs the whole way.

“Watch out there, Michael. Looks like you have some friendly competition,” Ashton winks.

I roll my eyes. Of course, more jokes. Just what I need to settle my self-doubt.

We walk in right at 10:30 and everyone seems to be having a great time already. I see a few faces that look familiar, most of them don’t. I’ve probably seen them around but I’m too drunk to recognize them. A few people start saying hi to me and I immediately just want to find someone I actually know. Ashton, Calum and Luke all parted from me once we walked through the door.

In the dining room is a game of BP that I have no interest in even playing. But I sit back and watch the idiot playing get crushed by his opponent. I realize that the opponent is the TA for my psych class and I can’t stop laughing. I wonder how B would feel about her TA and his tendencies with underage drinking.

I soon see Calum in the corner of my eye. His arm hooked around a girl, who is practically falling on him. I see it’s a girl who he’s hooked up with before. I think this one is named Sammy but I can’t remember. He waves me over.

“What’s up?” I say over the loud music playing nearby.

“We need to find her friend, dude. Do you see a girl with bright red hair and a royal blue dress? She’s her DD and she’s not doing so hot,” he replies. I’m relieved that Calum is the type that seeks help in these situations.

My eyes swiftly look around the rest of the party. I see clusters of people smoking for the most part.

How I wish that could be me right now.

Then I see her, a short petite girl with flaming red curls, and her eyes locking with mine.

“There!” I shout, pointing at Sammy’s friend.

Calum thanks me and meets up with the friend. Pawning Sammy right off to the girl with the red curls. They weed their way out of the crowd and head straight for the door.

He comes back to me and asks where Luke is.

“I have no idea, man. I lost him right when I walked in.”

“You better go find him. Dude’s like a lost puppy. He’ll coward in a corner until someone finds him.”

My eyes narrow in Calum’s direction, confused by the choice of his words. I disregard him and decide that looking for Luke is probably the best thing to do at this point. I brought him here, I can’t abandon him either.

Making my rounds around the party, I see two girls making out in the corner, guys crowded around them ogling. Something I’m not surprised to see really. Crowds of people, girls mostly, are clustered in areas dancing. Guys pass joints around. People laughing, and screeching, over the loud bass banging from the speakers.

Looking for Luke at this point is trying to find a needle in a haystack. Fucking impossible.

Then I see Ashton with a girl. A girl that I recognize as a girl he’s had a crush on. Ashton Irwin having a crush alone was almost pathetic to hear about. I mean, of course I can relate because look at me _now_ , but Ashton brought on a whole new level. He would come to our place and describe what this girl would have for lunch, while _he_ was sitting on the _other_ side of the caf, just observing.

I’d call it stalking, but the guy couldn’t help it. He had infatuation. It was disturbing, but also endearing I guess.

I think her name is Violet. She has long dark blonde hair that hangs to her waist. Almost like the color of his own curls. She’s tall too, which is perfect for him since he’s basically 6’ 1”. His hands are on her waist and he’s smiling at her. Her arms are hooked around his neck, staring right back at him.

He’s probably using _The Office_ pickup lines again.

I wouldn’t be surprised.

I feel like I’m interrupting an intimate moment so I have to look away.

I’m realizing that looking for Luke is futile. It’s like I’m going around in circles looking for him. And then I realize I haven’t checked everywhere just yet.

Hoping I’m right, I begin to wander to the backyard. Of course, it isn’t much. This house does belong to someone who is in college anyway, but it’s better than the nonexistent backyard we have at the dorms.

And that’s when I see him, Luke sitting by himself in a chair. His legs are propped on the table and he’s scrolling on his phone.

“Hey! I fucking found you!” I yell, and realize that I’m way too loud and probably happy. It’s definitely the Captain talking along with my penned up sexual frustration.

He looks up from his phone and gives me that smile that I’m growing to adore more and more.

“You found me,” he says quietly. “Pretty awful game of hide and seek, huh? Guess I didn’t do a fair job.” Luke is slurring and I’m amazed he’s so calm. Usually people are bouncing off the walls, wanting to take on the world.

“No, you did. I’ve been looking for you for like twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, well, it just seemed like this wasn’t my thing really,” Luke says.

I knew it. I knew he would have a shit time. And it’s all my fault. I brought him to this stupid lame party, talking it up like it could be the best time ever. I even hate parties. I can’t face social interaction and the only way I do put up with them is because of the booze.

I nod my head. “Do you want to leave?” I ask

“No, just… don’t leave my ass again,” he says laughing.

I smile back. “Wanna go see if we can play around of pong? I’ll take the drinks for you if you want. Beer is pretty awful. Period.”

Luke nods his head and he wobbles getting up.

We find our partners right away. The TA from my psych class and his girlfriend. Or maybe just a girl who is a friend. I can’t tell.

I tell them that I’ll be taking Luke’s drinks for him. They agree to our request and we face off to see who will be throwing first.

On the first try, Luke is put against the girl. They look directly at each other as they throw the balls in other team’s cups.

And on the first try, Luke makes it.

I want to scream out of joy, but I don’t want to make a scene.

“You’ve never played this before?” I clarify. He nods no and laughs about the shot he just made.

Right away, Luke makes it again while my aim is off completely. I’m doing terrible.

The other team ends up making two in a row, which means I have to drink four cups. I put the liquid in one cup and sip as we play. Just my luck that I would volunteer and end up eating my words.

Luke doesn’t make another shot for a while, just beginner’s luck at first. He’s trying really hard I can tell. I make a few more shots and as soon as we know it were down to the final round. Both teams only having one cup left.

Luke took one cup of beer already and saying if that I make the last cup then he’ll take it and vice versa for him. I nod and agree to his

We’re cheering for ourselves because we are so off with our throws. They end up ricocheting across the table and into the kitchen. We stumble over each other consumed with laughter, one right after another.

And by some miracle, the next round Luke makes it into the cup, making us the winners of this God awful game.

“That was great,” I say to Luke. “Let’s not ever do that again.” I’m almost out of breath from laughing so hard.

“Why do we do that again, but next time don’t drink all the beer? Sound like a plan?” he fires back in a sarcastic tone.

“Luke!” I screech. “I was saving you.” I’m slurring and I know it. I didn’t mean to end up like this but the combination of alcohol I consumed tonight was probably the wrong choice. I was supposed to take care of Luke not the other way around.

Luke gives me a look that I can’t read. Disgust? Pity? Sympathy? I’m not sure.

“Do you want to get out of here?” I offer. “The walk back to school isn’t too bad.”

Luke nods his head and we head out the door. I text Ashton and Calum saying we went home. Hopefully my text reads in proper English because I can’t even see straight and my hands feel heavy.

We walk in silence for a while until Luke finally breaks it.

“Thanks for letting me go with you guys tonight. I know you probably thought it was an awful party, but it was fun.”

He doesn’t seem too enthusiastic about it.

“Luke?” I ask. “Are you drunk at all?”

“I feel fucking wasted. When I was gone those last twenty minutes, I didn’t tell you but I should have but this girl gave me two shots of Captain. You said don’t mix so I thought I would be good,” he shrugs.

“Luke!” I scream, hitting him on the shoulder. “You’re such a fucking moron! Number one rule of college, don’t take drinks from anyone!” I’m yelling and I feel terrible, but something bad could’ve happened to him and I would have been the person that got him in that whole mess.

He nods. “I know, trust me. I think that’s why I’m so quiet right now. I feel like I’m worried about it.”

“No, you’re fine. You would be passed out right now if something happened.”

He stops walking and starts to crack up.

“Oh my God, Michael, I got drunk for the first time tonight!” he exclaims like a happy little kid. His blue eyes are shimmering even though it’s pitch black outside. Luke practically trips over himself as he starts walking and I have to hold him up.

“Easy,” I say. “And I thought I was the intolerable one right now.”

We go on our walk, only small talk bantering between the two of us. A car honks and we both give the person the finger. We talk about how bad we both want Taco Bell and a large pizza right now. We make a deal that we should go tomorrow to help us with our hangovers that are bound to be coming once the sun begins to shine.

I look at my phone right before we walk down the last block before school. It’s one in the morning.

“We made some pretty good time.”

Silence falls between us once again and I give a Luke an apologetic look.

“What?” he asks.

“I’m so sorry we went out and got you drunk. You’ll be hating me in the morning when you’re popping four Advil and wishing you’ve never met me,” I laugh. “And trust me, I know that feeling. It’s the exact same thought I had about Calum. Fucking idiot,” I mumble, still slightly not able to coherently speak in a complete sentence still.

“I’m not going to hate you, Michael. Tonight was fucking great. And anyway, you’re contradicting yourself. Look where you and Calum are. You guys seem close.”

I shrug, “Yeah, he’s alright.”

We both start laughing pretty hard as we make our way onto school grounds.

“No, you’re right. Calum and I are pretty close. Even though he’s a little bitch for joining Greek life. He does get us into some decent parties though. I wish we were friends during Halloween. Now _that_ was a hell of a night that I wish I could remember.”

It takes me a moment to realize that Luke stopped walking and is almost a few feet behind me once I turn around. He slowly walks up to me and grabs my face in his hands. And for a moment I think I might have fucking peed myself because I think he’s actually going to kiss me in this semi-dramatic expression.

“No, I could never hate you,” is all he says before his hands leave my face and he starts to walk in front me. Leaving me to wonder what the hell that even means.

The booze talks for me and begins to move my legs, disregarding his comment and filing that under, “Shit Michael Doesn’t Need to Think About.”

We talk about how much I hate statistics and how much I enjoy music and can’t wait to actually get my degree. I feel like I’m talking about myself mostly which isn’t what I want.

I want to learn about Luke. I want to hear about his interests, and concerns. I want him to talk about all the things he likes in the world and the things he doesn’t like. I want him to tell me about what he thinks about his life hear. I want to hear him talk passionately and expressively just like I am.

But before I can ask him about himself, we walk right to his place.

“Well, this is me actually,” he says pointing to the upstairs apartment style dorm. His hands once again finding his pockets to explore.

“Oh,” I begin. “Oh, well… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow for that pizza and Taco Bell right?”

Luke smiles, but doesn’t meet my eyes.

I say goodbye and as I walk away, I feel his hand grab my arm, pulling me back. This time looking directly at me. Nowhere to escape or run off too.

Luke sighs a little and I don’t think he realizes it but his chest is rapidly falling. He’s nervous.

“Do you wanna come inside?” he asks, as quiet as possible.

Yes. My automatic answer is yes. Why would I say no? Hell, why would anyone say no to the beautiful boy standing right before me? There isn’t anything I want more than to spend the night with Luke. To feel the warmth of his body next to my own. To hear his voice even more. To wake up to his smile and the dimples buried deep in his cheeks.

“No, Luke. I’m sorry. I just…” my words are fumbling and I want to run away, but his hand is still on my arm. “Luke, you wouldn’t be saying this right now if you weren’t drinking and I’m fucking plastered. You wouldn’t be saying this sober. I’m sorry.”

I don’t see his expression as I pull away. I can’t bring myself to see the regrettable look that I imagine is written on his face. Mostly, I don’t want him to see the disappointment that I feel is stitched across my own. I can’t let him wonder where he went wrong because I’m being selfish. I know that if I spent the night with Luke I wouldn’t remember a thing in the morning.

And when I’m with him I want to remember _everything_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this chapter for being so long!


	3. Chapter 3

The gold, radiant light shining in through my window is brighter than the day before. Only this time Calum is so deep in sleep he doesn’t even get up to throw a blanket over it.

Then it hits me. Like a sack of bricks to my skull. A mostly assumed headache that feels like drills ramming my brain. My body feels heavy and weak as I roll over to check that time. It’s nine in the morning.

And then I imagine myself having a dream because when I wake up I have two text messages from Luke. Suddenly my heart is racing and I’m far away from the dreamlike state I was just in. I’m wide awake and scrambling to get myself to sit up in my bed. I focus and carefully read the message that Luke sent me.

I want to quickly read the texts but instead I absorb each word one by one:

_Hey Michael its Luke I really meant what I said tonight bY having a good time. Im SOOOO SORRY forr what I saiiid I didn’t think twice about it once I said it please forgive meE_

The second one reads:

_Whoa, sorry Michael for that lasttext I sent you last night. I am sorry and I feel pretty embarrassed, but I didn’t have to say it so obnoxiously. I’m making myself cringe as I read it again and again. I’m still up for that Taco Bell and pizza lunch if you are._

Wow. Okay.

I need to tell him about how I feel towards him.  He didn’t mention anything in the second text about what he said last night. Did he really mean nothing by it? Was he just interested in a hookup? I have so many questions and there’s only one person that has the answers.

Within seconds I respond to Luke’s texts. I tell him he doesn’t have to worry, that we’ll talk about our adventure last night over pizza, tacos and Mountain Dew.

It’s only a second later that I receive a message from Luke saying:

 _I can’t wait_.

I want to jump up and down. I want to wake Calum up right now and tell him all about last night, what Luke said to me, how I ended things with him once I said goodbye.

I’m exhausted at the thought of jumping up and down right now. The mere thought of exercise seems sickening. I end up laying on my couch and end up falling asleep again, but only to be woken up by Calum minutes later.

“Dude!” he yells, making me jolt awake. He’s popping M&Ms into his mouth while he looks at me.

“What?” I scream. My heart racing out of my chest.

“What happened to you last night man? Did you hookup with Luke? I can’t believe you actually made a move with him. That’s progress from the shit you’ve been pulling with other guys.”

Calum has no idea what he’s even saying. I never had a crush on anyone here until I saw Luke. I haven’t pulled any shit with any guy.

I flop back on the couch. “Whatever, nothing happened.”

“Bullshit!” he says throwing an M&M at my face. “Tell me what happened.”

I explain to Calum that Luke was the one to make the move. He’s shocked at first, but becomes more surprised that I turned him down. I told him I couldn’t take it. Hooking up with him like that would be equivalent to torture.

Suddenly there’s a knock at our door.

“Wait… what time is it?” I ask Calum.

“Like noon.”

That has to be Luke. I haven’t even took a shower or changed my clothes. I look like a fucking mess really. Well, I can’t tell him turn back now. He’s already here.

I reluctantly open the door. The brightness shining from outside is close to blinding. I can barely see Luke standing in front of me. And like me, he’s wearing pajamas.

“I literally couldn’t change this morning. Everything hurts,” he says walking in. He slightly pouts his bottom lip. “And on top of that I didn’t even sleep well. I wasn’t asleep until like 4 in the morning and once I was asleep I was restless. I couldn’t take it.”

Luke covers his eyes with his palms and slides them dramatically down his face.

“I’m _so_ hungover,” he whines and all I can do is laugh. We’ve all been there. Then he throws his hands up in the air. If someone who feels like shit he sure is lively. “And on top of that my roommate is upset that I didn’t tell him I was going to drink last night because he’s been asking me to drink with him and just, oh my God, it’s just so annoying. I needed to get out of there.”

I nod my head and plop on my couch. Luke sits right next to me.

“Are we going to acknowledge the fact that it’s the afternoon and we’re still in pajamas?” he asks in a snarky tone.

A slight chuckle leaves my throat. “Thank God one of us said it.”

Luke straightens himself up and pulls on his fringed hair. He wipes his palms on his plaid pants and gives me a look, and I have no idea what to read of it. Is he _nervous_? And if so, about _what_?

“So, about what I said last night,” he begins. Oh, _no_. “I meant it Michael. I really meant it. I did want you to spend the night with me. I did and I don’t know what to say besides that. And I take it as a good sign that you’re talking to me and you’re not repulsed or disgusted by me. I just –”

“Stop, stop, stop right there,” I’m smiling while I say this. He’s so scared and I had to make him stop talking. His voice is trembling and it’s hard to hear. “Luke, I understand. Trust me, if we weren’t under intoxicated conditions then yes, I would have, but that’s not what I wanted this to be like. You know? I rather get to know you first.”

We stare at each other. And hesitantly start laughing to the point of tears.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I can’t believe I just said that. I sound like Sandy from _Grease_.”

That makes Luke laugh. “I understand though. What now?” he asks.

“Walking across the street to get a pizza and liter of Mountain Dew and Taco Bell?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Now that everything sounds so easy, where Luke and me are now, how perfectly fine with each other, that should be okay. But it isn’t. It’s not that simple. I don’t know about him, but I pretty much have the most pent up sexual energy raging inside of me at this moment and God knows what the hell is taking over my mind that is allowing me not to just jump on Luke this very second.

Should we actually address our feelings? Should we talk about what we’re going to do with the next few weeks of school left?

Maybe I’m thinking too hard and being too over analytical. It simply isn’t healthy.

I just need to sit back and relax and absorb the time I’m spending with this wonderful human walking right next to me.

That’s another thing. It’s so easy for us to talk to each other. Our friendship was almost automatic when we started talking in the laundry room. I feel like I’ve known Luke for years. It’s like he gives me a sense of nostalgia.

Anyway, on our walk across the street we make small talk; about last night, about the whole year, just being us. It’s comfortable and nice and easy.

We order a pizza from the place next to Taco Bell and grab a few things from Taco Bell as well. From 711 I buy a liter of Mountain Dew and offer buy anything he wants.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll just have water.”

I glare at him until he gives in, which doesn’t take any time whatsoever.

“Okay, okay! Just Coke. Coke is fine.”

I smile out of satisfactory. I win, I always do.

We probably look ridiculous with our bags of complete junk food, in our pajamas may I add, walking back to the dorms. Our eyes still bloodshot from the night before. Black bags droop under our eyes. Our skin so pale and lips chapped from dehydration. We look like the living dead.

“Hey, I have an idea. We should have a movie marathon day. Are you down?” Luke suggests with enthusiasm. “If you have stuff to do, that’s cool of course,” he continues, his voice must softer now.

Oh, _Luke_.

Luke, Luke, Luke. So innocent, so deceivingly angelic.

Any college student would know that sentence is code word for, “Let’s make out, and or, hook up while a movie plays some background sound.”

I respond with a knowing smirk, my eyes narrow and one eyebrow lifted.

“No!” Luke exclaims, correcting himself. “No, like really. Like actually watch movies.” He nudges my shoulder with his own and rolls his eyes. “God, Michael, who do you think I am?” he teases.

“Sure,” I giggle. “That’s exactly what you mean. I think I have a few laying around the dorm.”

My heart is racing at the suggestiveness of Luke’s invitation. He basically asked to spend the whole day together at my place. He’s being so bold and courageous and I can’t keep up. I’m shocked, but at the same time I don’t mind one bit. At this moment, I’m purely enjoying the time we have together. There’s only seventeen days left in the school year and who knows what could happen in that short amount of time.

The past three days can be a test for that.

We throw our bags on the coffee table along with the box of pizza, making a loud _thud_ hitting heavy wood.

I run into my room and grab the few DVDs that I received as Christmas presents over winter break. They’re all I asked for besides CDs and some new guitar picks. My relatives that actually buy presents surprised me with a few good options.

I throw the black case full of DVDs at Luke, smacking him right in the shoulder. He winces and acts like he’s wounded, he’s clearly not. I’m such a weakling I couldn’t hurt a fly.

“I’m gonna pick a few and then you can choose from there?” Luke offers, flipping through his options.

“Sure.”

Right away he picks one and I can’t tell what it is. He makes some oh’s and ah’s shuffling through the bunch.

“No way,” he mutters under his breath. “ _Mean Girls_? You’re joking?” His voice is giddy and he has a grin planted on his face. “Nice choices in movies, man.” Luke shakes his head laughing.

“That was a joke from my cousin I swear! All I asked we’re DVDs for Christmas and that’s what she decided to give me. Along with a box of condoms and a case of beer so that should give me some credit!” I shout at him.

“I’m just kidding,” he says, pulling _Mean Girls_ out of the pocket. “I like _Mean Girls_.” His voice more quiet this time. Luke looks up at me and smirks, his lip stud following the corner of his mouth.

I want to jump on him and wipe that sly smile off his face. Luke is becoming bolder by the minute and his brash tone is displayed more apparently more than ever.

Out of the few that Luke picked out I pick three from the pile: _The Amazing Spiderman_ , _Donnie Darko_ , and _Mean Girls_.

“Pick again,” I say.

His hand hovers over _Donnie Darko_ but quickly picks up the _Mean Girls_ disk.

Didn’t see that coming.

“Nice choice,” I say, moving the coffee table over and sitting with on the ground with my back leaning against the couch.

“Whatcha doing down there?” Luke asks quizzically. His face filled with a perplexed look.

“I prefer floor to couch.”

“I’ll join you.”

Okay, in all honesty I couldn’t stand sitting next to Luke for the next hour and a half with my palms sweating and my whole body trembling. He’s becoming more intimidating. He’s proving to me that he isn’t so innocent than my initial thoughts. More importantly, he candidly said that he is interested in me.

And that scares the hell out of me more than anything.

No one has ever come out directly and told me that before. The only prior relationship was based off a friendship in high school and that was completely closeted like most other gay relationships at that age.

The movie comes on and my eyes are glued to the screen in front of me. I realize I’m holding my breath and it races out of me when I see Calum emerge from our bedroom with his drawstring bag and soccer ball in his hands.

“Alright, I’m late to practice,” Calum says. “As usual of course.” He waves goodbye and slams the door as he leaves.

 _Mean Girls_ becomes background for my overly aggressive thoughts that are flooding my mind. Do I want to things between Luke and me to go faster? I wouldn’t mind it, but there’s something inside me that says that if we took that hypothetical path things would get messy. And fast.

My whole mind is a disarray and the only thing that pulls me back to reality is Luke’s manic laughter. I gawk at him with a blank expression. He really doesn’t share the same feelings right now? Really?

“I’ve seen this movie plenty of times and I can’t contain myself every time,” he says clutching his stomach. “Is everything okay?” He must be confused about the strange look plastered on my face.

I nod wildly nod my head. “Yeah, yeah everything is fine,” I barely squawk out as my voice cracks. _Great_.

We still don’t say one word to each other as we finish _Mean Girls_. Luke’s laughter cuts in every once and a while, but for the most part I’m biting my nails and surrendering to my consuming, circling thoughts.

I begin to daydream; thinking about summer, what it may entail, but I’m interrupted by Luke standing up next to me and breaking my concentration.

“Okay, what next?” he asks.

I turn back to the screen. It’s over. That one cover song that plays during the credits loudly streams from the speakers.

“You’re the guest here. Pick again,” I suggest.

He closes his eyes and picks between the two other DVDs. Luke’s hand overs over _The Amazing Spiderman._ One of my personal favorites. And I instantly feel happy. Luke notices.

“You like this one?” he smiles. “Good, because so do I.”

I don’t want to tell him about how much I love Spiderman. I don’t think he’s ready for that conversation yet.

If I allowed him in my room he would clearly tell. I’m not sure if the drawer full of comics, the huge poster over my bed, the spider web lanyard, or Spiderman plushie that Cal got me as a joke – not really – for my birthday that would give it away. Now, I wouldn’t call myself obsessed; I think a lot of my friends feed the Spiderman enthusiasm, but Peter Parker isn’t so bad.

Now that we watch _The Amazing Spiderman_ , I feel slightly nostalgic from the beginning of the school year.

I didn’t know anyone besides Calum so I would come home from my astronomy class at four on Thursdays and immediately put the DVD and watch for the two solid hours and fifteen minutes, completely glued to the TV. Sometimes I’d be accompanied by a beer or two, but for the most part I was alone. That is until Cal started to notice.

“You watch this movie every Thursday… why?” he asked. It was about a month and a half into school and we were still acclimating to each other’s schedules, attitudes, and overall demeanor. I learned early on Calum was a brutally honest person, so the question didn’t come as a shock.

“I don’t know. I like it I guess,” I reply.

“No, you _like_ boys. This thing with Spiderman is a _fascination_.” His tone is joking and I can’t help but to laugh. After all, he’s right.

I shrug. “I really don’t know. I wish I had an answer, but I’m just fucking weird, man.” I’m lying on my stomach on the couch and practically talking into the cushion themselves.

“Do you mind if I join?” he asks.

“Really?” I say, intrigued that Cal even would ask. This is his place too after all.

“Yeah, I got nothing better to do,” he shrugs.

And that’s how Calum and I began to watch _The Amazing Spiderman_ every Thursday at four until the end of October. After Halloween we decided that maybe we should part ways with it. I haven’t watched it since.

This time is like no other. My eyes don’t leave the screen. The action keeps me captivated. Not to mention Andrew Garfield. Gwen Stacy is the badass she will always be. Oscorp is just a bunch of terrible assholes trying to conquer the world. Everything about it is _marvel_ ous.

I think I may even mumble some of the lines under my breath. How embarrassing.

By the time our current movie is over it’s almost five o’clock and we decide to eat the rest our pizza for dinner since both of us are still in pajamas and it clearly would not be acceptable to go to the caf like this.

I begin to rub my eyes as I put Donnie Darko in the DVD player. My eyes are beginning to feel heavy from lack of sleep once again. The rush of being around Luke is warring off.

As I sit back down next to Luke, his legs stretched out covered in plaid pajama bottoms, his hoodie sleeves rolled up and arms crossed I decide that I need to do something about this.

I scoot myself closer to him by an inch. He doesn’t notice.

Then another inch.

And another.

Finally, his head turns directly towards me.

“What?” he smiles. It feels suggestive, but he’s _Luke_. He can’t be, he’s too innocent.

“Nothing,” I respond with the same smirk, mocking him.

This time he moves slightly closer, unfolding his arms. I shut my eyes and reach out, clutching his hand with my own.

I am a child with their first crush.

I finally open my eyes to see Luke starting at our hands.

“Is this okay?” I say.

I’m such an idiot. I’m such a moron. _Is this okay?_ Who do I think I am? A first grader obviously. And now on top of this my palm is sweating. Gross.

This is great.

“Michael, are you okay? Like, are you really? You don’t seem okay,” he asks, clearly concerned. “This is fine. _This_ is fine.” He holds up our hands proving to me that he in fact is perfectly fine with this act of affection. Because I’m not one to be confrontational about my feelings. This is a big moment for me, for I feel weak and I can’t be seen as vulnerable. I think Luke is catching on to that.

He moves so close to me that our legs touch and we’re leaning into each other. Our hands are nestled in the crevice that our legs have created.

My heart isn’t racing. My hand is no longer clammy. My anxiety has disappeared.

And I feel at peace. Being with Luke like this seems right. It’s blissful and easy. Something that I’m not used too.

Luke doesn’t say a word through the whole movie. Neither of us do.

It isn’t until I hear a door slam from in the distance that I realize I’m asleep. I open my eyes to see a blue TV screen.

My head leans on Luke’s shoulder, his head resting against my own. Our hands are still intertwined.

I hear someone in the room clear their throat obnoxiously and I quickly turn my head to see Calum standing in the doorway. His arms folded and his eyebrows raised.

“Well, excuse _you_ ,” he scoffs. “Care to explain?” Calum says mockingly.

I roll my eyes. “Shut _up_ , Cal.”

Cal’s only joking because this is the first time that I’ve ever had someone over. He’s always the one bringing girls back to hook up with on the couch.

And he wonders why I can’t sit there.

And we were _sleeping_.

I turn over to see Luke rubbing his eyes with his right, and only available, hand.

“Good morning,” I say sheepishly. “Sleep well?”

“Not as well as you apparently,” he says as he points to his shirt. A slight puddle of drool on his sleeve.

I instantly turn to red and I can feel the power of the blush full force, staining my cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize smashing my face in my hands. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he laughs, nudging my shoulder.

I shake my head and turn off the TV.

“I better go. I have some homework that I need to do. Thanks for today. It was fun while it lasted.”

“Yeah, sure. Any time,” I say.

Then as I stare back into the blank television screen, I feel Luke kiss the nape of my neck, gently. As if he didn’t mean to it all. His lips barely present, but I feel the pinch of his lip stud. He kisses me harder on my cheek. It’s an effortless gesture. It’s innocent. And I need him to kiss me more. The peck clearly was not enough.

“Good night, Michael,” Luke whispers as releases my hand and stands up, walking towards the door.

That’s it? That’s what he wants to leave with?

Luke must have more flairs for the dramatic than any person I’ve ever met.

And I know Calum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm sure that it's apparent that I'm still getting used to writing and I apologize for that.  
> Anyone wanna guess where this might go?


	4. Chapter 4

The following day I wake up at my usual 9 AM and run to the shower to shock my body awake with hot steam. The soothing water flowing over my body send jolts through me more than any amount of caffeine could. Following the waterfall of serenity and tranquility I grab a tank that was once a shirt with full sleeves, black jeans, my Vans, some granola bar, fill up my reusable water bottle and head out the door with the rest of the necessary items I need for my psych class.

Psych is pretty cool; it’s an introductory class that involves a lot of lecturing, but I don’t mind. I only have it once a week for three hours. The teacher is also chill; Professor B is what she prefers to be called too. She warned us the first day if we called her Professor Bitch we’d be in trouble. B was joking of course, she just can’t stand trying to hear people slaughter her last name to bits. It makes things slightly easier.

I walk in right on time and charge to my seat. I sit front row in front of the huge lecture hall. I grab my things and set them on my desk. B walks in with her TA shortly after. The TA sees me front row and gives me a nod and waves. I can’t help but to smile back at him remember the win that Luke and I had Saturday. That seems so long ago. B notices our exchange and challenges me a strange look.

“Good morning, how are you Michael?” she asks directly to me.

Oh, yeah. B and I are on a first name basis.

“I’m great. How are you Professor?”

“Swell, I got those awful papers graded. I sure didn’t think that was going to happen.”

I laugh in response. I try to do my best when it comes to befriending teachers; going to their office hours, raising my hand to answer the simple questions in class, volunteering to read aloud when they ask. People might think it’s annoying, they might think of the “teacher pet” stigma when they hear my voice speak once again. But guess what? When grading comes around and I have an 88% in a class and the professor recognizes my name and a positive connotation that follows it, guess who will be getting a solid A? It might sound terrible, it might sound cruel, but it’s the college grading system and it sucks. I’ll be the first to admit that, so I can only do what I can in class. Show up, do work, bomb tests and still get an A. It’s been proven time and time again. And I’m proof of that.

“Michael,” B shouts as she sits down at her desk preparing for lecture. “Talk to me after class will you? I have a question to ask you.”

Crap. That worries me. Nothing good could follow B’s words, but I nod my head. “Sure.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,” she jokes.

A few moments later she dives right in to the class lecture. This time we’re covering addictions. She explains the significance of various addictions, how they happen, why, when, where and analyzes them in extreme details. We watch a few videos and I scribble down my notes preparing for the final next week. The prior class B told us that we’re going to take the final test the week before the actual final. Since we have this class at 10 in the morning Monday, two weeks from now, B decided that for an extra credit assignment we could research an addiction or disorder and speak in front of the class for two minutes to receive said extra credit. Who would deny extra credit?

So as far as I’m concerned this is the last class I have with my favorite professor so far and I’m bummed about that. Psychology is not my calling, but it sure is fascinating and I’ve really enjoyed the clear enthusiasm that B demonstrates.

I glance at my phone to check the time. 12:30 and my stomach growls as if on cue.

“Well, then,” B says directly at me. “It looks like Mr. Michael here is hungry so I think I’m going to let class out early today.” She laughs as she says it yet no one says a word or gets up to leave.

“Wait, you heard that?” I ask since it seems like everyone is waiting for me to respond.

“Yeah, who didn’t? I think I covered enough for today anyway. You all have your test next week. Look online for the study guide. Come prepared and do not wait to the last minute to study guys! Learn your lesson!” B says as the class shuffles out of the two doors on opposite sides. B looks directly at me as I sit red as a tomato in my chair. “Okay, and now for you. Let’s see, I have a job to offer you.”

“What?” I ask clearly shocked.

“You heard me. I want you to be a TA for me next semester. Just like your little buddy that sits over there,” she says as she points to where her TA, and for the life of me I can’t remember his name, usually sits. “Teddy is my TA for this semester. You could talk to him if you’d like. You basically grade the assignments, take roll, and put everything in the grade book for me, all doing so while in class. You’re my assistant. The description is in the name. Now, I know you already signed up for classes for next semester but this would be an additional three units on top of that and if that doesn’t seal your deal you get paid minimum wage for three hours.”

B’s monologue throws me a curve. A job? And she’s offering the opportunity to me?

“Why?” I ask, confused that out of everyone she would truly pick me.

“Because you’re going to get an A in this class and that’s basically the only criteria to become one. That coupled with your devoted love to this class,” B says, her sarcastic tone seething through her teeth. “You don’t have to say yes, Michael. I’m giving you an option, you know.”

I shake my head. How could I refuse? I get paid, receive units and I just found out I have a given A for this class. I would bow down to B’s feet right now if I knew she would kick me in the face if I tried.

“No, I’m totally in. This is a great opportunity.”

“And even if I wasn’t paid I would do this.”

“So my answer is yes.”

B tells me that I have to sign some paper that she hands me and have my advisor sign it as well. Provided that my GPA is fine and that it won’t conflict with any other particular classes. I tell her I’ll go as soon as possible to my advisor.

While Professor B is sunshine on the perfect day, my advisor O’Connell is the nagging gnat that never seems to leave you alone of that seemingly perfect day. I’m not looking forward to paying him a visit.

I say goodbye to B, wishing her a great weekend with my award winning smile.

I’m so happy that I got a job! There are so many positive attributes to this opportunity and I just can’t stop grinning ear to ear.

As soon as I leave the building my phone buzzes. I received a text from Calum:

_Please don’t come home… please._

I feel like my eyes roll at the texts that I receive from Cal than not.

He must be working his magic over on a girl. And by a magic I mean complete utter surrender to the female population. He’s a great sweet talker that’s for sure. I’ve seen it happen. Girls fall like dominos around him and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

I text him telling him he owes me big time and think about texting Luke instead. I haven’t heard from him in a while, but I disregard that thought completely and decide to make my way towards the library.

The library at my school has become my second home. It’s the only place that I’m able to accomplish any amount of work.

My school’s library consists three levels. The first floor is dedicated to those who collaborative work. You’re allowed to speak and talk as loud as you want. The second level is half an art exhibit, half computer lab and spaces for collaborative work, minimal talking. The third floor is dedicated for those who are looking to do work by themselves. It’s complete silence. And it’s also my favorite.

I stop by the café next to the library and fill up my water bottle before I make my trek to the top floor to my favorite cubby.

When I walk open to the spacious third level my eyes spot a familiar shade of blonde hair next to my designated cubby. Of course, this is only a coincidence.

For a moment, I question if I should sit next to Luke at all. What if he’s actually trying to get something done? I wouldn’t want to bother him. However, if the roles were reversed I would want him to be bothering me. I go against my initial reaction and march over to the cubby.

I think about doing something cute like covering his eyes while I sneak up behind him or tap of his left shoulder while I hover over his right. Maybe I could be comfortable doing that one day, but not today. Instead, I set my white Jansport on the table and stare at him until he acknowledges me.

Luke has headphones in and refuses to even glimpse in my direction. How does he not feel my eyes burning into the side of his cheek? On the other hand his music is so loud that I can actually here what he’s listening to.

So I rip out his headphones from his ears.

I wish I recorded his reaction because it was priceless and I almost roll onto the ground laughing at his expression. He seems to be a combination of scared, shocked, and appalled all at the same time. But the look disappears when he realizes it’s me. His mouth that was left agape is now smiling in my direction, obviously happy to see me and that makes me return the smile.

“Hi,” he exclaims louder than he should have. Some head turn and his cheeks begin to flush. “Hi,” Luke says again, only whispering this time.

“Hey,” I smile.

I feel like we’re in such a honeymoon stage. All this smiling and teasing and glancing and giggling is starting to get exhausting. We should have just fucked Saturday night instead of taking this route. This is so painful. It’s practically torture. We should just have had sex and left it at that. That’s what the normal college experience is like. Not puppy love.

 Grabbing my psych notebook from my bag I begin to scribble down and explain my conversation with B. I want to share my happiness with Luke. I slide him the note from my cubby to his.

He grabs the note and nods his head, flashing me a smile. Luke begins to respond.

_That’s awesome! Do you know how much you get paid?_

I write back:

_Apparently minimum wage!_

I almost pass it back until I quickly add:

_I’ll have money to take you out on dates and stuff._

Smooth, Michael Clifford. Real smooth.

I have a pretty smug look on my face and Luke notices. Once he sees what I wrote he starts cracking up. Throwing his head back laughing.

_Is that so?_

We exchange notes like children elementary school. I tell him about how Calum sexiled me to the library, how this is an occurring nightmare of mine. I appreciate that Calum takes the time to give me a heads up, but it still sucks that I can’t hang out in my own place as much as I would like. It’s not completely a huge deal. Cal’s sex life seems to be fucking blossoming, while mine has been nonexistent this whole year, so I think its jealousy more than anything.

Luke asks me what Cal’s major is and he’s surprised to hear its English and not sexology. I explain to Luke that if he really did know Calum, it would make sense.

Cal is a fucking major pain in the ass. He’s a sarcastic prick and good for nothing smartass that runs his mouth in any given opportunity. He’s annoying with his carefully placed words. He will eloquently string along a sentence whereas someone like me will think about what they’re going to say, speak quietly, and words flow out of their mouth as gracefully as a garbage disposal running.

That’s why Calum is an English major.

When I look at my computer I realize that a whole hour has passed and I would know that Cal can’t last that long. I scribble on my note that I want to go O’Connell’s place before he closes for the day. Luke nods along, telling me that he’ll walk me there.

Once I pick my computer up it almost falls out of my hands and Luke grabs for it, but instead the computer just slips and he ends up grabbing my forearms, sending shivers up my spine. He stares deeply into my eyes until I can no longer hold his gaze.

“Thank you,” I whisper, zipping up my Jansport.

As we walk to the elevator the floorboards squeak and creek as our shoes hit the ground. I always laugh at the sound. A gentle reminder that I have a mentality of a toddler.

Once we get into the elevator and press the floor button, both Luke and I face the door, our back against to the opposing wall.

“Can I kiss you?” Luke asks.

“What?”

“Can I?”

“What?”

I’m still in shock when he grabs my face and presses his lips against my own. His hands rest at the hook of my jaw as my arms grasp onto his waist, making their way around him in a full embrace. I’ve waited for this moment since I saw him walk through the fucking laundry room. And it finally happened.

Luke’s lips taste like mint and they leave my own feeling cool. I almost gag at the thought of what mine probably are like. My best guess would be a combination of Mountain Dew and weed.

I hold him close until the ding of the elevator goes off and the automatic doors fly open. I don’t want to let go, I don’t want this moment to end.

Luke slightly pulls away and his soul searching blue eyes look into my own.

“I don’t want to leave this elevator,” he laughs, his gaze following to the ground. Neither of us move and he pushes his forehead to my own, closing his eyes. I do the same.

“Then don’t,” I say.

The metallic doors close as Luke pulls my face towards his once again.


	5. Chapter 5

I wake up to the sun shining through my window once again. Hard wood knocks between my legs and I groan. What a fucking burden.

Today I don’t have class until one and I figure that maybe I should go see O’Connell today since I never did yesterday.

Luke wouldn’t allow me and I certainly didn’t mind.

After the metallic doors closed we stayed in that elevator until someone walked in. I don’t know how long we stayed in there for. It could have been thirty seconds. It could have been five minutes. But I simply lost track of time. With our fingers intertwined and our skin brushing against one another, it felt like my whole body was lit into engulfing flames. Each time Luke touched me somewhere new I felt a surge running through my veins. I’m addicted to the way he feels pressed against me, the taste of his tongue and the look in his eyes that gives me a sense of worth and promise.

Then again, there is the nagging thought in the back of my mind knowing that once we part for the summer, we are apart for three months, ten hours away from each other. I didn’t think I held a grudge to distance until now.

And we talked about it, afterwards. We discussed the opportunities that may arise with either of us visiting another, but then he asked if it was worth it? Our current relationship is predetermined; we have roughly fifteen more days to be around one another, to do whatever we want and then maybe the break between us will be good and easy. If not we have the fall to spend time with each other once again. We have to play it day by day for now.

As much as either of us want to.

After taking a shower and cleaning myself up a bit I go out to the living room to grab a granola bar. A sticky note sticks out on the coffee table. It’s in Calum’s handwriting:

_Fuck you, Michael_

Awfully, creative. I’ll give him that. Whatever, he probably has practice right now, because I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have class. Maybe he’s even hooking up with the girl from yesterday.

I haven’t seen him for a while. Maybe I should reach out to him. It’s rare that we go a whole day without seeing each other. I’ll ask about the girl he’s seeing in hopes that he may ask about Luke. I want to tell the whole world that Luke likes _me_ and made out with _me_ in that elevator.

_Me_.

This feeling I’m having is something all too new. My past relationship was dull and inevitable when put into perspective.

While I knew I was gay since the womb, Aidan didn’t. We were friends since sophomore year of high school. He was fascinated about which guys I thought were attractive and what I looked for in a relationship. Aidan was curious and that’s about it. We had nothing in common and no real spark. I cringe thinking about kissing him as many times as I did. It’s not that I hold anything against him, but I think we were just bored high schoolers and were the only out and proud guys at the time. We’re still friends now and we never even bring up the dark days of our doomed relationship.

I quickly get out of bed and jump in the shower. I feel frantic, but that’s only because I have to drop by O’Connell’s today. He better not give me any shit for wanting to be a TA especially for a psych class. If it was for music I don’t think I would have any issue, because for some reason O’Connell thinks that music majors trump everyone else. Which is certainly not the case. Every major is interesting, every major is difficult. And what O’Connell has to say about anything is absolute bullshit.

By the time I get to O’Connell’s office its noon and I have an hour before one of my music classes.

When I enter the doorway I can smell the stench of coffee and cigarettes, such a pretentious broken-hearted music major stereotype. Well, not for those who are singers, but for those who want to be musicians. Since O’Connell’s door is wide open I knock on the frame.

“Hey, Mr. O’Connell,” I say before I enter the room

“Hello, Michael. Come in, come in,” he replies ushering me inside. He pauses his music. Some artsy, indie crap plays from his speakers. Not that I don’t mind it, but I just simply hate everything about O’Connell. I can’t help it.

O’Connell is a young counselor. I would say in his late thirties, kind of good looking for some hipster douchebag that is trying too hard in this era. He currently has his hair slicked back and his sleeves rolled up and wears a bowtie that resembles R2D2 from _Star Wars_. To complete his utterly disgusting and horrid attire, O’Connell is wearing Wayfarer glasses.

Oh, _God_ I think I’m going to throw up.

“What can I do for you?” he asks lacing his fingers together and leaning back in his chair. From this light, he looks like Doctor Evil.

I pull the paper B gave me from my backpack and sit down in the chair in front of him.

“I was actually wondering if you could sign this. I’m interested in becoming a TA for B… I mean Professor Badanguio, for her psychology 201 class. She recommended me for the position and told me if I were to accept her offer I would need you to sign this paper and work one of her available classes into my schedule.”

O’Connell takes the paper out of my hands and immediately signs it. With no objections or arguments or interjections. Nothing.

This is not O’Connell.

He is never this easy going, never in a good mood like this.

O’Connell must be getting laid.

I feel my eyebrows lift and my head tilt to the side. My emotions always seem to take over my body. O’Connell seems to notice. He actually smiles and I feel like this might be some big joke.

“Okay, let’s look at your schedule for next year,” O’Connell says typing away at his keyboard. “Looks like you only have one class and waitlisted for everything else. That’s okay. Registration was a week ago and you’re pretty high on the waitlists and I wouldn’t worry about it. So the only class you’re registered for is history 287 with Professor Beck. Are you interested in a music class for your major? Get some units for it out of the way?”

I nod my head. I’m fine with any classes and I won’t protest to any of the ones for my major.

“Now, you’re registered for two classes. That one history class and mus 340 with Professor McKneely. She’s great. I think you’ll get along with her. Let’s weed this TA class into your schedule now.”

I watch O’Connell’s new alter ego do his magic with his computer. It’s so much easier than the terrible stress I go through when registering for classes. My second semester I almost cried when I was in the library searching for them. It was an absolute nightmare and I barely got the units I did. That’s the reason why I have two music classes this semester. They’re with terrible teachers. Although I’m lucky to get the psych class with B.

O’Connell pushes his computer so I can see it. “Okay, you’re all set. I’m just going to show you what’s going on with your schedule now. B had two open options and I scheduled you for the one that best fit with the classes you’re on the waitlist for. As of right now, and hypothetically, you have history 287 Tuesday and Thursday from 11 to 12:45, political science Tuesday from 2 to 5:50, a mus class at 7 to 9:40. On Wednesday you have your TA class with Professor Badanguio and a communications class from 4 to 8. Now I have another questions to ask you.”

Crap, here comes the O’Connell I’m used too. Something terrible is about to follow I’m sure. Some negativity about college, about this school, about my schedule, about me, something is bound to go wrong.

“Are you interested in picking up a minor?”

I shake my head.

“Well, you wish to be a jingle writer, yes?” I want to smash my face by the way the words “jingle writer” seethes from his lips. “I think you should declare COMS as a minor, or even a double major. I think it may come in handy with your career.”

Again, I’m lost. I’m baffled. I’m amazed.

And again, my emotions are revealed in my expression.

O’Connell throws up his hands. “I know, I know, you probably don’t want to deal with more work or more schooling, but Michael, you have promise. You’ve made a name for yourself your freshman year in the music department and I think it would be worth it picking up the minor or double. It would be a lot of work, but you already know that. Communications isn’t easy, no major is and especially with a double, you’re going to have to work hard. You already do, I will admit that” – well thanks for that compliment, Master Douche – “but I am your designated advisor and that’s my advice.”

It’s really difficult to take in all that O’Connell is telling me right now. I never really thought about my career. I mean I know what I want to do, and well, I thought I knew how do get there. O’Connell is right though. It’s like my yellow brick road to the jingle city has been cleared of all evil monkeys and wicked witches and surprisingly enough, O’Connell is my Glinda.

“You’re completely right. I’ll think about it. I wouldn’t mind picking up COMS. I think I have a friend who is declared COMS. I’ll talk to him about it, ask if it’s worth it or not,” I say.

“Yeah, yeah of course. I’d also go to the COMS advisors also. I mean, this is all my opinion, but hearing from professional COMS advisors will be helpful also, Michael.”

A silence drifts into O’Connell’s monologue and my eyes begin to drift around the room.

“If that’s all Michael, you’re free to go,” O’Connell says in his usual snarky attitude tone.

Ah, the word is spinning once again.

By the time I get to my one o’clock class there is only one seat left in the auditorium. It’s a music class based on lecture only and it’s the most boring class of my life. I have to sit through two hours of my professor droning on about God knows what. Music history basically. It’s something for my major that I really don’t care for. I rather have the hands on classes, the fun ones. That’ll be next semester hopefully.

Right when the clock hits 2:50 I bolt out of my seat and sprint of the door. I have ten minutes as usual to make it to my theater class on the other side of school.

On the way there I see Ashton. He’s wearing another headband – this one dyed blue – jeans and a plain white shirt. An actual shirt. I’m so shocked that I have to take a double take to confirm that it’s actually Ashton.

Not only is Ashton notorious for his horrendous choices in regards to the weird shit he puts on his head, but he also wears brotanks all year round. It’s strange to see him with his arms covered.

Ashton recognizes me once I get closer. He runs up to me greeting me with a high five.

“Dude, did you know you’re wearing a shirt?” I say laughing as he greets me.

“I know. I know, trust me I _know_ ,” he responds. “I’m going to have to change later. I can’t take it. This California sun was meant to meet my arms.”

His choice words make me almost want to throw up. Ashton is so weird. And that’s putting it simply.

“Hey, are you coming to Calum’s and mine game tomorrow? You haven’t been in _weeks_! It’s weird not having our only fan there to cheer us on,” Ashton whines and pouts.

“Sorry, I’ve just been busy you know,” I apologize.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed. How is your boy anyway? Oh, that’s a good idea! Bring him to the game! Then we could have two people in the stands!” Ashton exclaims.

I wince when Ashton addresses Luke as “my boy.” It makes him sound like some toy that I found lying around.

“Yeah, sure, sure. I’ll talk to him about it later. I gotta run to theater right now, but I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll wear a tie dye shirt in your honor,” I laugh, turning to run to my theater class.

Ashton winks at me and clucks his tongue. “You’re my biggest fan, Michael and I love you for that!” Ashton yells as I sprint away.

I actually really enjoy hanging around Ashton. His personality could be described in one word, effervescent. He’s just one giant, bouncing, smiling bubble. He’s so aggressively positive and kind to everyone. It’s really admirable and disturbing all at the same time. It’s hard not to enjoy Ashton’s presence.

When I walk into my theater class everyone is sitting in the first few seats of the stage. My professor is sitting on the end of the stage giving somewhat of a lecture before class. I see a spot open from this one girl I’ve kind of befriended.

Her name is Abby. She’s a hell of a spitfire and isn’t afraid to show it. She’s also super tiny, probably around 5’ 2” and that doesn’t include the afro she has for her hair, which takes up most of her height. Her long curls flow from the top of her skull and drape around her shoulders. Abby is also a fellow music major and is currently in a band that she fronts. She’s good too. It’s intimidating.

I hustle to the seat that is open right next to her.

“Hey,” I whisper, taking my seat.

“Hey,” she responds. Abby is stunningly beautiful and that only adds to the intimidating spectrum. Her facial features are sharp and on point. I’ve watched the numerous amount of boys in our class hit on her time after time and she’s shot every one of them down. Today she lined her eyes with eyeliner that accentuates her eyelashes and dark red lipstick that makes her look more of a badass. It brings out the freckles that speckle across her dark skin.

Once we break to set up for the spring musical Abby and I start making conversation.

“How was your weekend?” Abby asks grabbing some tree from behind the curtain. I follow her, not doing much work myself.

“Oh, it wasn’t too crazy I guess.” Abby cocks an eyebrow; my expression giving away the truth behind my words. “ _Fine_. I met someone and we literally spent the whole weekend together.”

“Oh!” she exclaims, her hazel eyes lighting up. “That’s great. What’s his name? What’s he like? What’s his major?”

I tell Abby all about my weekend with Luke. In extreme detail too. I don’t skip one aspect about it. Abby smiles the whole time I mention Luke’s name too.

“What?” I ask. “What’s with the smile? I hate seeing you smile, Abby. It’s weird.”

This makes her laugh. She knows she suffers from constant bitch face so smiling to her is strange too.

“You’re just so smitten over this guy Luke, Michael. It’s adorable! I mean, I know I’m cold, and heartless, and callous and cruel, but I’m satisfied when I hear a good love story. A true one at that.  Not to mention that you seem really genuinely happy which is nice to see since you’re miserable all the time,” Abby teases. My mouth hangs open. I shouldn’t be shocked at her blunt brutality. “Oh, _please_! Stop acting like you’re not. You’re Mr. Doom and Gloom, you hate everything as much as I do. Why do you think we get along so well?”

Abby has a point.

“Okay, fine. What about you? How was your weekend?” I question. My turn to pressure her about her love life.

“It was okay. I had band practice most of the time,” she says, but I see a curve in her lip. Another smile as the words slip from her mouth.

“That’s not all is it?” I insist. “Abby what happened this weekend?”

Abby covers her face with both her hands. Then peeks her eyes through. “If I tell you, you can’t say a thing about it to anyone.”

Abby is not one to be so dramatic and it makes me curious. What could be so secretive in Abby’s life?

She waves me over so I’m closer to her.

“I made out Sean,” she whispers and winces all at once.

“Wait, Sean _Sean_? Like Sean setting up those fake lanterns over there, Sean?” I say back.

Sean Who-Is-Setting-Up-Those-Fake-Lanterns-Over-There-Sean is a guy in our class that, on numerous occasions, has tried to talk to Abby, and has been a complete mess every chance he has. He stutters and struggles with his words. He’s basically a puppy and can’t hold a conversation with anyone. Sean tries so hard and it’s a car wreck every time.

“How did that happen?” I say crossing my arms and laughing at the predicament that Abby got herself into. She’s never going to live this down.

Abby tells me that she got drunk this weekend and was walking back to her place. She saw Sean in her village and decided that she had the utter defiance to make out with someone that night. She hated everyone that she ran into at her party and that’s when she saw Sean. She struck up a conversation with him completely sober and asked if he could kiss her. She claims “he didn’t want to kiss me in that situation with me drunk so I grabbed his face and told him to forget about it.”

A red scarlet color brushes her cheeks as she tells me her story.

“I’m so embarrassed that I did that too him. I’m a terrible person,” she says.

With my arms still folded as I lean against the stage I say, “Yeah you are. He loves you, man, and now you’re _fucked_.”

She punches me right in the shoulder, leaving my skin stinging.

“Shut up, I _know_. I’m going to talk to him after class.”

“You’re going to have to tell me when the wedding is. I have to mark in my calendar,” I tantalize. I see the furry raging in Abby’s eyes as she swings at my shoulder again. I let her and my shoulder feels like it was stabbed with a thousand needles. I deserved it, so I have to let the pain go.

Our professor calls out that we have five minutes of class left. Abby pulls me aside after I jump off the stage to grab my backpack.

“By the way,” she says, reaching for her studded black purse. “Here.” Abby hands me a glossy flier with her face on it cartooned with her band’s logo entwined in her curly cartoon hair. “My band is playing a show Friday. Please come. Its downtown and its three dollars to get in.”

“Damn, Abby, this looks fucking professional! How the fuck did you get this done?”

Abby shrugs like it’s no big deal. “My best friend is a graphic design major and has a minor in art. I paid him for the design and had it printed myself.”

“It looks fucking great,” I say still shocked about the flier she handed me. “I’ll be there front row. You just have to dedicate a song to me.”

She rolls her eyes and gives me a glare. “Yeah, sure whatever.”

She begins to walk away before she shouts, “Oh! Bring Luke if you want. I need to meet this guy.”

I nod my head. “Yeah, and I’ll invite Sean also!” I yell back.

Abby flips me off before I reach the end of the lawn outside the building. She still waits for Sean when I turn back to see her.

Once I get to my dorm I go directly to my room and flop on my bed. It’s only Tuesday and I still have three classes to go until I reach my golden weekend.

After my incident with Luke yesterday I made a promise to myself that today I would stay abstinent from his presence and text messages. So far so good and it’s already 4:30. To keep myself occupied and distracted I start an essay for my theater class. Some paper on Shakespeare. Once I’m done I have Calum look over it.

“Dude, this is great,” he praises, his face beaming.

“Really?” I say doubtfully.

“No, it’s actually terrible. You have no idea what you’re talking about whatsoever when it comes to this play. I don’t even know where to start,” Calum scoffs.

Although I know Calum says this for his own amusement, I’m thankful. He’s so brutally honest that I know he’s always truthful with me. Since he’s an English major I always have him read over my work. Most of the time he doesn’t have much to say, just a few grammatical errors or misspellings, but there are times like this where he will completely tutor me in essay writing.

By the time, we’re done going over notes for my new essay its ten o’clock and Cal says he has practice in the morning.

“Sorry man, I hope that helps,” he offers.

“Are you kidding? I don’t know what I’d do without you, Cal. I would’ve gotten an F on that paper if I turned it in. I owe you big time,” I confess. “This is so much better than what I had before.”

“Ah,” he put his hand up. “Don’t worry about it. Besides soccer, English is my forte, you know this.”

Cal turns off the light in our room and turns on his lamp instead.

“Wait, Ashton told me you’re coming to the game tomorrow?” he states as a question.  

I nod as a grab my computer from the side of my bed along with headphones. I type in Netflix in the search bar.

“Yeah, I haven’t been in a while and you guys need at least one person to attend,” I shrug.

“I don’t like your attitude Mr. Clifford,” Calum says pointing his finger at me. “But I appreciate your school spirit… Oh! You should bring Luke!” He turns off his lamp before he can see that look wearing on my face.

I can’t help but smirk at Calum’s words. I’ve only been hanging out with Luke for four days, not even a week, and it’s like we’ve become a pair.

I can’t help but to wonder what Luke’s thoughts would be about this.

I’ll have to ask him tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6

I wake up with my Shakespeare paper completed and Luke on my mind. I didn’t see or speak to him once yesterday. Today is going to be different.

Before I can even fully open my eyes I reach for my blinking phone on my nightstand. I have a message from Luke:

_Good morning! What’s your schedule like today? I only had one class and it started at 8. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out at all?_

I’m close to squealing out of delight. If I wasn’t such a robot I probably would. This makes it so much easier to ask him about Ashton and Calum’s soccer game later tonight.

_Good morning to you too. I just got up and I have class from 1 to 4:40. It’s a music class and it basically equals death. Would you want to meet me for an early dinner at the caf and go to Ash and Cal’s indoor soccer game?_

After I send the text I set my phone on my chest, making a loud thump against my skin. Seconds later it buzzes with Luke response:

_Absolutely!! Do I need to make a sign?_

I smile at Luke’s sense of humor. He’s almost too easy going for his own good. Even though I know he’s joking about making a sign, I wasn’t kidding yesterday when I told Ashton I was going to wear a tie dye shirt in his honor. I do it every time they have a game. When I first started wearing them it was a joke, but it now has spiraled out of control.

I currently have two dyed shirts. One resembling a typical jersey with “Irwin,” – Ashton’s last name – and his number, 13, on the back. The other one says, “Lost Boys” – their team name – in big, bold letters on the front with, “Ashton and Calum are babes” in smaller writing on the back. That one is my favorite although I tend to wear the jersey a lot more.

Since I don’t have class until one and I have no homework thanks to Calum, I decide that I should work on some music I’ve been trying to write.

Although my dream is to be a jingle writer, I do love playing actual music. In high school I went to a local show almost every weekend. I met a lot of great people going to these dive bars listening to up and coming bands. Most of the time they were terrible. Either they couldn’t sing, couldn’t play their instrument, were too drunk to even go on, or maybe a combination of all three. There were a few times that a band was pleasant to hear, it wasn’t often but it did happen.

There are some moments that I will write songs with lyrics, but mostly it’s my fingers against the strings. When I feel the strum of my guitar humming against my body I feel like ecstasy is running through my veins. Playing music is the best high I will ever get. I feel like I touch the sky when I hear the melodies echoing throughout my room.

I’m in the middle of playing a cover of, “Hello, I’m In Delaware” when my phone beings to buzz. It’s a text from Ashton asking if I would meet him in the caf before my one o’clock.

Immediately I pack up my white Jansport and black notebook, specifically designated for this music class. I also grab my headphones and begin to play, “Hello, I’m In Delaware” once again. I don’t know what it is about this specific song, but it’s currently my favorite. I haven’t been able to listen to anything else for almost a month.

I think it takes me two run-throughs of the song before I end up at the caf. Ashton is waiting for me in the lobby texting away on his phone.

“Okay,” he says in a rushed tone. “You’re here… good. Okay, so you’re good with girls right?”

I lift my eyebrow and a blank stare crosses my face. “I’m gay, Ash.”

“Yeah, I know that, but you’re like a people person? You can strike up a conversation with someone right? I mean you and Luke hit it off in one night and it was all because of you, you know? You’re outgoing and charismatic and–“

“I think you’re having an identity crisis. I have two friends for a reason. You definitely just described yourself, Ash,” I interrupt. I couldn’t handle another sentence flow out of his mouth.

I probably should be worried because Ashton never fucking doubts or has concerns about anything. For him to have anxiety about something must be new to him.

I leave Ashton scrambling for words as I walk into the cafeteria. Behind me I hear Ash dramatically sighing in every possible tone.

“I want to care about whatever is going on your life right now, I really fucking do, but could you tell me while I make a waffle please?” I suggest.

I’m never good with advice. Why do people come to me for advice? If it’s because everyone thinks I’m a wallflower and therefore understand the inner workings of the world people are fucking way too off with their thoughtful paths.

Despite this I consider Ashton while he describes to me his predicament. Low and behold, that girl Violet from the party last weekend asked him out on a date and the idiot fucking said no and walked away.

“What do I do? Tell her I got scared and I’m sorry? That’s she’s so fucking hot that I can’t even spend two minutes alone with her?” Ashton’s voice is rising high and I’m too close to laughing so I cover my mouth and nod to his questions. “God, I should just light my face on fire.”

I recognize his last sentence as a _The Office_ quote, one that Ash uses quite often, and roll my eyes.

After regaining my composure I tell Ashton that he needs to say to her exactly what he just told me. These types of situations would only happen to Ashton. The amount of serendipity in his life is past empty to the point of no return.

As I eat my waffle Ashton sits across the table shaking. His leg bouncing as a nervous tick while he stares at his phone.

“I swear to fucking God if you don’t stop right now I will jump across this table and make out with you so hard you will forget about Violet, got it?” My tone is sharp and I narrow my eyes at him for good measure.

Ashton purses his lips together and gently sets down his phone. “Okay,” he says apologetically. “I get it.”

Once my threat has fully sufficed Ashton begins to tell me how excited he is for the game tonight. He says that Cal has been training extra hard so he could try out for the soccer team next year.

“What?” I ask shocked. “He hasn’t mentioned anything about it to me and I’m his fucking roommate.”

“Well, have you talked to him lately? You guys used to be joined and inseparable. Maybe you should have like a roomie date or something,” Ashton offers.

“Yeah, okay. If I offered that to Calum he’d step on my eyeballs with his cleats and proceed to feed me his sweaty jerseys.”

Ashton rolls his eyes, but laughs. He can’t deny the truth. “You know what I mean.”

I do. I’ve been neglecting my best friend, my roommate. The one person who has been there for me this whole year. I’m never one who abandons friends and that’s not going to change.

We get up from our seats moments later and say our goodbyes as I head off to my four hour music class.

The only exciting thing for waiting for me when I enter the auditorium is the fact that most of the time we spend is practicing and perfecting our tunes and musical skills. Lately I’ve been favoriting the piano in the other room next door. This class is like a playground for all music majors. It’s a total safe haven for our ingenuity to flow freely.

But first we must sit through a lecture describing one or two elements of music. I steadily take my notes but find myself doodling inside of the margins of my notebook. I tend to favor squiggles and shapes more than anything. I should be listening to what my professor is saying, I’m sure it’s important, but the only thing I have on my mind is the time I’m spending with Luke later. Even in my mind he’s a complete distraction.

After two hours of learning about strings we move on to the best part, play time. Right after we are dismissed I run to the room next door. My favorite piano waits for me near the corner.

This specific piano reminds me of the steampunk scene. It’s laced with gold trimmings and copper fillings. Little swirls make their way around the base, creating a pattern in the copper. The design seems decades old, but surprisingly enough this was once an art student’s project. A girl, not too long ago, found a broken down piano waiting to picked up to be taken to a dumpster. Immediately she saw potential and with some help of a friend with musical history she restored the piano and made it absolutely stunning. At least, that’s how the story goes.

I take out some of my sheet music and ruffle through the pages. I find some scores from _The Pirates of the Caribbean_ and play until my fingers begin to feel numb and bruised. It isn’t up until that point that I think I’ve had enough practice for the day.

After class is dismissed completely my hands begin to sweat. Luke is meeting me at the caf for an early dinner and I can’t wait to hear how he’s been doing.

I walk into the lobby and see Luke sitting right on one of the lounge chairs. His hair is messy and his cheeks are flushed. He wears a black shirt with a blue flannel thrown over it. I notice that there are holes ripped in his jeans exposing his knees. Luke is preoccupied with the gaze he is throwing in the opposite of direction of me, but once he sees me in the corner of his eye his expression changes completely. His face now glows and his smile brightens.

“Hey!” he welcomes. “I was beginning to think you stood me up.”

“What? No, never.”

We walk into the cafeteria just as the chefs are putting out stir fry and tacos.

“Wow, what a great combination of cuisine,” Luke remarks. He’s right, it’s strange to mix the two, but it smells _so_ good. My stomach begins to stir as if on cue.

I end up grabbing the stir-fry while Luke takes the tacos. We sit at our usual spot close to the door.

“So what’d you do today?” I ask after a moment of silence. Luke bites tactfully bites into one of his tacos. After the initial crunch the filling begins to fall out the other side. “Please, take your time,” I add as his wipes his mouth clear of taco sauce.

“Thanks. Well, I had my soc class today. I really like that. I had my anthro class today, too. I really like that also. I guess I just really like people,” Luke offers.

It’s hard to believe that Luke is a people person. I can’t help to scoff at him. He’s so quiet and reserved… Well, that is until you get him going he won’t stop. I guess I could consider him a people person. I know that I would never fall under that category. I have enough anxiety having a one-on-one conversation.

Luke begins to tell me, in passionate detail, about his two classes today. He clearly enjoys learning, especially about these subjects because he doesn’t stop talking and I feel like I’m reliving through his lectures. Luke is clearly vehement about the topics he’s discussed in these classes and I can’t help but ask him one question.

“Have you other thought of declaring education as your major? I think you’d really like it,” I say.

Luke looks to the corner of the caf as if there is something totally important waiting for him there. I can tell he’s thinking about it. Maybe a little _too_ hard.

“I haven’t and I’m pretty mind boggled right now because it’s like you just answered the question I’ve been trying to answer my whole life. You answered it within three minutes of our conversation.”

Luke has not been talking for three minutes.

Try thirty.

“Where have you been all my life?” Luke asks, looking directly into my eyes and for one more second I’m caught off guard by his whole being.

“Happy to help.”

Luke shakes his head as if he’s made a terrible mistake. “I’m sorry, I’ve been talking about anthro and soc this whole time. You probably don’t even care.”

He’s right, I really don’t care, but it’s the passion in Luke’s voice that only keeps me alert and listening to his voice.

“So, Mr. Music Major, I know why you declared music, but I have to ask, what’s your favorite band?” Luke smirks, thinking he asked me a trick question.

“Yeah, I mean my all-time favorite is Nirvana, but I – “

“That’s so typical! I could’ve seen that answer coming from a mile away!”

“Shut the hell up! You didn’t even let me finish.” I roll my eyes. “And if you allowed me to get one word out before your own fucking big fat mouth you would’ve heard me say that I like a lot of newer bands too. My taste rages. That’s why I’m a music major. If I just liked one type I’d be in the wrong business.”

Luke has no response besides folding his arms and sliding back in his chair. I see him roll his tongue around and press it against his cheek, a slight smirk surfacing his face.

“Does that suffice your question?” I fire.

“Touché, touché. I’ll eat my words with pride.”

There is something about our banters that somehow easily make that ever burning fire inside my lungs erupt into something greater, flowing through my veins like hot ash. I instantly feel warm.

But I’m noticing that basically is the power that Luke has over me.

“Oh, so tonight I’m wearing this hideous jersey to the game. Please don’t judge me. It’s just a running joke between Ashton and me.”

Luke chuckles. “I can’t wait to see this monstrosity.”

We finish up the rest of our food and decide that heading back to my place would be the best idea since I’ll have to change before the game in two hours.

The only thing I have on my mind is how bad I want to climb on top of Luke; how I want to see what he looks like without his clothes on; how Luke would feel against my own skin; how good Luke would fuck; how Luke’s dick would taste in my mouth.

I make a mental note not be so vulgar anymore.

When we walk into my place I want to strip him of every article of clothing he’s wearing. Instead he takes a seat on the floor, leaning against the couch and pats his left side.

“Come here,” he says. “Can I kiss you?” he adds after I sit down.

 _Luke_ , I internally groan. “Yeah,” I whisper.

I feel like a ragdoll in his arms, limp and all his, but I’m nothing like a toy. I’m just as strong and powerful pushing back on his pressure. In moments we are completely entwined and tangled in one another. I lose sight to where I am, who I am. For all I know I’m currently the king of the world, because when I’m with Luke I believe I could be.

I fall over on my side as Luke begins to lean me on my back, his hand placed on my thigh, but I completely fall backwards, hitting my head as I go down.

“Oh my God,” Luke yells. “Are you okay? Please, tell me you’re okay.”

Immediately I start laughing and feel the back of my skull. “I’m good, I’m good. What a moment,” I snort. “I’m sorry,” I add. I don’t know why. Luke shakes his head disregarding my comment.

“No, need for an apology,” he says grinning sweetly.

I can’t _stand_ him.

“Luke, I know nothing about you besides that fact that you’re in love with the human population,” I ask since clearly there is no rescuing our moment. I’m such a mess.

I sit back next to him, staring at the blank TV in front of us. Luke’s nose brushes against the curve of my neck and I flinch from the tickling sensation.

“Oh, ticklish much?” Luke teases, nudging the tip of his nose to the nape of my neck.

“Stop!” I yell, shouting between laughs and the effortless pushes I shove at him to nudge him away.

Luke doesn’t stop and I really don’t mind. I’ll happily bathe in the attention he gives me. And he realizes it. It doesn’t take long until he’s brushing his fingers against my throat and leaving kisses from my ear to my collarbone.

 _One_.

 _Two_.

 _Three_.

“No Luke, I –“ I begin. Oh God, I really don’t want him to think that:

  1.        I don’t enjoy this, because I want it more than anything.
  2.        I really want to know something substantial about Luke.



I know absolutely nothing about him and more than anything right now, besides to feel his lips against my skin, is to hear him speak hours on end. If Luke were to read an entire set of encyclopedias I would memorize every word that he spoke. Every accent, every syllable.

I’m pretty sure that his voice could end wars.

I also realize I shouldn’t materialize his voice like this, it’s not healthy, but I’m starting to believe I’m not a very sane person anyway.

And more importantly, I don’t care.

“Luke,” I chuckle, pulling his face into my hands and making him look at me in my eyes. “Listen to me,” I say, but I begin to laugh at his squished face in my palms.

Luke rolls his eyes and falls back, leaning against the couch. He runs his hands through his hair and crosses his legs.

“Well, let’s see my middle name is Robert. I was born on July 16th.  I have two brothers. My favorite band is Blink 182. I like the color blue. I also like to sleep a lot and sitcoms are my favorite thing to watch. Does that satisfy you in _anyway_?” Luke shoots me a sneering look mockingly.

“Okay, shut up. I get it,” I reply, maneuvering my body next to his. “I get it.”

This time I grab Luke’s hand into my own. He turns himself and presses his head against my temple. He leaves kisses on my face making his way towards my lips once again. Luke tastes like pure sugar and smells like summer. I can’t help but become self-indulgent of him.

“We should probably go to the game,” Luke says, breaking away. “Calum and Ashton will be disappointed.”

“No, no, no,” I reply, pointing his face to my own. Luke gives me a peck before he gets back up. He offers me a hand helping me off the floor. Even though Luke’s grasp should be enough to keep me balanced, I end up tripping over my own feet and plummeting into his body. My shoulder meets his chest, knocking him hard, and causing him to fall over on the couch, me along with him. “Oh my God, are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay.”

At first I think Luke is crying, but then I realize that he’s laughing as his eyes are squinting and his chest is rising and falling.

“Wait, wait, can I say something?” he says in between chuckles, but then becomes extremely serious before he continues. “Michael Clifford, did you just _fall_ for me?”

I want to push him off a cliff for his terrible pun. I tell him this, which was a mistake because it throws him into another fit of laughter.

“You really are a mess, Michael,” Luke says.  

“Pot or kettle?” I fire back, lifting myself from the couch. Luke is right about one thing. We better leave for the game soon or Cal and Ashton will be hurt. And I need to put on my ridiculous jersey for tonight.

I leave to my room to rummage through my closet for one of the Lost Boys shirts I own. Suddenly I hear a knock on my wall and I turn to see Luke walk in right as I pull my shirt over my head.

“Well, hello. What did I just walk into?” Luke says suggestively. “If I had known how casual the dress code was I would have changed.”

“Nice try,” I sneer. “I just need to find the only colorful shirt I own and we can leave. It’s surprising that this is that hard…”

Luke brushes by me and touches my stomach, making me jump.

From the corner of my eye I see Luke begin to snoop around my room. He begins to peak through my bookshelf – filled with the same three books I read repeatedly – the various movies piled next to them, the various guitar picks filling up a glass container on my desk, the stuffed Spiderman that Calum gave me. Luke basically looks through everything that I own and he doesn’t stop even when I’m dressed and am leaning against my wall with my arms folded. He’s too preoccupied with the curiosity that currently consumes him.

Eventually he turns away and takes a double take once he realizes that he’s been caught looking through my things.

“Sorry, I just… I –“ he stammers. I grab his wrist and pull him out the door.

When we arrive to the gym for the indoor soccer game, Luke looks baffled.

“You weren’t kidding when you said no one would be here,” he announces.

We take a front row seat in the open bleachers as the Lost Boys and the Multiple Scoregasms start their game. And although Calum and Ashton have played this other team before, I lose my composure when I see the team’s banner hanging near their side of the goal. Luke doesn’t even realize the play on words that they used until I begin to crack up.

Over my laughs I hear him say, “Since when did college students have the capacity to become so witty?”

I’m not sure, but Cal is also proof.

The game to me is more exciting than ever. It’s their playoffs, or whatever you call it in soccer, and this is the Lost Boy’s first game. And there are even more people that shuffle through the doors as the game goes on.

Since the field is a lot of smaller indoors the game is quicker and the players are extremely aggressive, friendly to each other, but terrible hostile. You’d think they were battling for the World Cup. Luke and I cheer on Ash and Calum with full force. Our voices obnoxious and loud, very unlike us both.

Calum makes his first goal within minutes and we jump from our seat screaming.

Cal shakes his head and laughs at us and gives us a wave before turning his attention back to the game. The rest of the game is pretty typical. The Lost Boys eventually win with a score of four to one which means they’ll move on the next game in the series… or whatever.

After the game Luke and I patiently wait until the Lost Boys have a small meeting before leaving the gym. Ashton and Calum jog up to us before leaving.

“Thanks for coming guys,” Ashton says, removing the red bandana that covers his forehead. A red imprint marking where the bandana was marks his head in a pink splotch and Luke can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, that was a good game guys. Good goal, Cal. You actually helped the team this time!” I congratulate.

Calum rolls his eyes. He knows he’s the hardest working player on the team and probably the best player in their division. He loves soccer more than anything and it really shows when he’s out playing in the gym. I can’t wait to see what he does next year when he joins our soccer team. He’s going to kick so much ass out there. This recreational indoor thing is too slow for him, I can tell.

Ashton on the other hand has really good hand-eye coordination, but doesn’t have the same love or dirve for it as Cal does. He mostly does it for the workout and the spirit of the sport. Plus he gets an extremely attractive cheerleader sitting in the stands wearing a homemade jersey with his name on it. Who wouldn’t want that?

We all go to the caf for dinner with some of the other team members, including players from the Multiple Scorgasms. At the table before we leave I tell Luke I’m going to walk him back to his place. He gives me a wink and I shove him which makes him almost fall out of his chair. I’m learning I have to be more careful around Luke. Apparently it’s easy for me to hurt him.

More like put myself in embarrassing situations.

We escape the sight of the rest of the guys on our way out through the double doors so I can walk Luke home. He has his hands clutched in his jacket pockets and he seems so tall as he walks next to me. The air surrounding us is warm and the sun is still setting. The smells of summer are fresh in the air as crickets begin to chirp in the bushes that line our path to Luke’s place. Off in the horizon colors of purple, pink, and orange smash together to create the beautiful sunset lining our skyline.

I’m going to miss this. I’m already nostalgic for our remaining days and I’m sickened that I feel this way. It sucks, but I should be satisfied that I even met Luke.  

Once we get to Luke’s place, he turns around and asks me if he could kiss me.

“Absolutely,” I say as I brace myself.

This time he tastes salty-sweet.

I’ll never get used to the weakening feeling I get when he touches me. My hands shake. Prickles line my back. My knees are frail. When Luke breaks away I ask him, “When are you going to stop asking?”

“I’m not, not ever, because I love hearing you say yes. Yes, and yes, and yes again.”

After what seems like our tongues battling to the death Luke pulls away and begins to laugh.

“Michael, I want to say sorry for earlier. I just… I’m not used to being this way with someone. You know? Like you’re so new to me and every time I see you I don’t want to say goodbye. I don’t want this school year to end. I want you to be in my line-of-sight… always.” Luke says, and quickly adds, “Fuck!” by screaming at the top of his lungs and looking up towards the sky.

I know my cheeks are blushing and I feel like I’m going to throw up at his disgusting, yet completely charming choice of words.

“I think that was the first time I’ve ever heard you swear,” I remark, baffled.

“No, I’m sure it wasn’t.”

“Well, whatever. I don’t care. I like where we are.”

“But where is that?”

“Does it matter?” I question. “Stop over thinking things so much. That’s my thing. You’re not allowed to do that.”

Luke sighs and it escapes through his lips. His breath brushing against my ear. “Fine,” he says smiling through his teeth. He brings me close to him, pulling my whole body to his. I have to look up into his eyes because of our slight height difference. My arms wrap around his neck and I bring him in for a kiss.

“Once we get back from summer we’ll see where we are. Maybe you’ll find some hot lifeguard that you end up fucking in a shed,” I taunt.

Luke sticks his tongue out and makes a gagging sound. “Wow, okay. I feel like that’s one of the fantasies you’ve concocted, Michael.” His tone is playful, but that’s not what I notice most. He pulls me closer, tighter and for a moment I feel like we could disappear forever. Just like this.

Luke pressing me close. My hands wrapped around him.

Nothing has seems so simple yet complicated all at once.

And I don’t want to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a really tough time writing this chapter. I just felt obligated to say that. Also, I’m going to be posting every Thursday/Friday from now on. Mark your calendars!


	7. Chapter 7

The birds outside my window wake me up with their enchanting chirps. My mouth is wide open, a puddle of drool pooling on my pillow is residue from apparently a goodnight’s sleep. I feel exhausted but I need to get ready for the day.

I stayed up until four in the morning texting Luke. I’m becoming one of those people that chooses their significant other – that’s definitely not the right word – over sleep.

And I like my sleep.

I make myself sick.

By now it’s eleven and I need to get ready. I drag myself out of bed and take a shower to wake myself up. The hot water reaches my body and I tumble into the wall from jumping away from the scalding water.

“Fuck!” I scream after reaching to turn the faucet. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper under my breath.

A moment later there is a huge bang on the bathroom door. “Are you okay, Michael?” I hear Calum shout over the running water.

 _Fuck_ , this is _so_ embarrassing. “Yeah, I’m fine!” I call back. “I’m good.” Calum mumbles something under his breath as he walks away. Not necessarily the best way to start off my morning, but I guess it could be worse. Once I get out of the shower and wipe away the steam and condensation covering the mirror I turn around to see my skin bright pink from where the blistering water hit my back.

Well, that’s an attractive look.

I change into clothes and go out to the living room to get a breakfast bar where Calum is seated on the couch, scribbling away at homework.

“Hey, Cal,” I say entering the room.

“Dude, what were you doing in there? I mean don’t answer that, because I think I can imagine, but like… what the hell,” he says it more like a plain statement than anything.

“No, no, no,” I begin, only envisioning the image in Calum’s mind. “Somehow the water got too hot and it got so bad that I like, slammed myself into the wall. As if I could run away from it or something, I don’t know.”

“You’re a mess, Michael,” Calum announces.

People seem to be telling me that a lot lately. I really am though. The absolute definition of a mess.

 _Mess_ : noun, a situation or state of affairs that is confused or full of difficulties. Also known as Michael Clifford.

Yeah, that basically seems about right.

Before class I ask Calum if he wants to go the caf. His facial expression really reveals truth, hurtful truth. He scrunches his face and recoils his whole body. Calum asks if I’m sure.

“Of course?” I say cautiously and more like a question. “Why?” I say grabbing my key and shoving the rest of my papers into my white Jansport. We’re out the door before Calum can even answer.

The thing about Calum is he’s a genuine, good hearted prick. Like a sponge. That’s exactly how I would describe Calum Hood. He’s got this bright squishy, loveable part of him. Especially when you soak him in booze. He has his moments of pure tolerance. Then there’s the abrasive side. Takes up about 25% of his personality, yet that’s what you feel the most. Kind of jaded, but he makes it work for him. It’s amusing. The air around him just screams, “I’m slightly better than everyone else,” and people believe in it. Which is totally not true if any of these people really knew Cal at all.

They would learn that Calum sleeps with his baby blanket that he will purposefully tuck it underneath his bed during the day. They would learn that Calum talks to his family _every_ day. They would learn that Calum made Ashton tie-dye shirts the other day as an early birthday present – since we won’t be in school at the time. And although I helped with that last one, The Calum I know is notorious for his sincerity, honesty, and his acts of pure kindness; no matter how hard he tries to be a badass. In my eyes, it’s like he’s trying to be a convincing villain, but he’s destined to be the good guy.

 

We sit quietly through lunch and it doesn’t feel awkward, but the last thing I said Calum never responded too.

“Cal, I’m gonna ask you again, but why were you so shocked that I asked you to go to the caf?” Oh, God. What a disgustingly wordy sentence. Was there ever hope that I could speak proper English?

“I don’t know. I figured you’d ask Luke.” His answer is short and sweet. It doesn’t look like he’s going to explain further.

Is it really just me thinking Calum is such a bad mood? I mean he never is truly in a bad mood and there is no fucking way Luke is the problem.

“Are… you… jealous?” I ask slowly. Each word creeping out of my throat, attached with a question at the end. I mean it to be a joke and I don’t want him to take it seriously.

He shakes his head. “Yeah, I kind of am.”

Okay, that’s not what I expected. He must see my reaction but he recoils and begins to laugh, throwing up his hands to cover his giggles.

“No!” he begins once he calmed down. “Oh, man you should’ve seen your face. Trust me if I was going to confess my love to you I would’ve sucked your dick by now.” Great mental picture, Cal. “No… more of ou relationship with Luke. Does that make sense?”

Ah, now that my friend, _does_ make sense.

See, the villain does have a soft side. Absolutely adorable.

“Yeah, totally.” It’s all I have to say for us to go back to our usual selves. Where Cal talks about how great girls are and I nod along; how I go on and on about music and movies and comics and Calum pretends like he can relate. We talk about Ashton and how big of a moron he really is; and what will really be the outcome of Ashton and this girl Violet.

“Dude, they’re gonna be fuck buddies. There’s no way that this girl can really be into Ash.”

“Ah, you’re not aware? Girls are into guys who wear constant tie-dye shirts and headbands, man,” I retort. I feel bad. Ashton is a great guy. Possibly the best guy anyone could have despite his lackluster t-shirt choices, but what college student has good fashion sense?

By the time I know it my phone begins to buzz. An alarm set for 12:45 so I won’t be late for music. I say my goodbyes to Cal and take a massive trek to the building next door.

This time is like any other. I set my white Jansport on the ground, take out my designated notebook and begin to doodle in the margins as my professor begins a lecture describing some kind of music theory. By this time my brain has already checked out and all I know that it’s doodle time.

At the end of class I take a look at my masterpiece: Calum as a dog.

Well, not really “as a dog,” he just happens to have a tail and puppy ears and whiskers and it’s just so great. He better frame this.

Again, I have ten minutes to sprint to theater which starts at three. I don’t run, I can barely walk so that’s never an answer. It’s not like being late isn’t an option though. I just really hate the attention it gives me when I walk into a lecture hall searching for a seat. All eyes on me has never been my thing.

Once we’re dismissed to set up for the spring musical I make a bee line straight to Abby.

“Hey Abby,” I say.

“What’s up, Michael?” She asks, clearly cheerful.

“I – “ I begin but before I could finish my sentence she interrupts me completely.

“Oh, did you talk to your boyfriend about coming to my show tomorrow? I mean if you don’t wanna go, or if you want to go and not bring him or whatever, it’s like, totally fine. I think I’ll have more shows when we get back from summer vacation.”

Abby has a one track mind. Well, I guess technically two, it’s like a fork in the road. It’s either music or boys. Maybe that’s just because those are the things we have in common…

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s see,” I say taking out my phone to text Luke. “I didn’t talk to him. I was kind of busy the last couple days, but I’ll ask him right now.”

I jostle around my backpack looking for my stupid phone. Finally finding it I text Luke:

_Hey! Want to go to my friend’s show tomorrow in the city? I think we could get in for free so we’d only have to worry about buying a ticket for the train there and back. Let me know so she could put us on the list._

“Okay, I’ll let you know what he says.”

Abby and I begin to set up for the spring musical. It’s rare that we, I mean _I_ , ever do work. Usually we sit around talking until someone tells us to move or begin another project. In this case we would just walk to the other side of the room and continue our conversation there.

Apparently our spring musical is none other than _Cinderella_ , which I just learned about. The musical is supposed to play from this Saturday to the end of the school year every night except on Sundays. I make a note that maybe it would a good idea go see.

Abby and I move around most of the props and I have to say, most of them look very authentic. I can tell that whoever actually made most of this stuff put passion and their time into it. Art students are amazing. Maybe I’m biased because I’m a music major.

At the end of class I look at my phone. A response from Luke pops up right as I unlock the screen:

_Absolutely! Sounds fun_

After class I say goodbye to Abby and tell her that I can’t wait to see her at the show tomorrow. She says she’s excited to see Luke.

“Yeah, well… he’s alright.” I say. Abby laughs hysterically.

Walking back home I begin to tune out the rest of the world. I may or may not have a playlist titled “Thursday I’m In Love” and purposefully listen to it every Thursday after class. With a misleading title one would probably think it was a playlist dedicated to love songs, while in reality it’s almost the opposite. This specific playlist consists of almost every song that I ever listened to in middle school. Every song that would’ve been on my Myspace playlist. Every song filled with utter teenage angst. Every song I tried to make my mom listen to and convince her it was the greatest song ever written.

The first song that plays is “Teenage Dirtbag.”

And if that doesn’t sum it up I don’t know what does.

When I walk through my front door I’m belting the lyrics to “A Little More Sixteen Candles, A Little More ‘Touch Me’” and it takes me awhile to notice Calum sitting on the couch covering his mouth, laughing so hard. I see him flop on the couch from his hysterics. Immediately I rip the earphones from my ears.

“You didn’t hear anything,” I say before throwing my phone on puny table along with my backpack. “You didn’t hear anything.”

“Hell yeah I did. That was beautiful, Michael! Do you serenade Luke with that voice?” Calum chuckles in between gasps for breath. “Oh, that was great.”

I roll my eyes. “What are you doing home right now? Don’t you have class?”

“It got canceled!” he shouts at the top of his lungs. “Calculus. Suck. My. Dick!”

I tell him how great that is. Getting a class canceled in college is equivalent to the feeling you get from taking ecstasy. I wouldn’t know, but that’s how I imagine it would be like.

Now that I’m done with classes for the day I consider playing music or cleaning up my room. It’s quite shocking that Calum and I are able to keep our place decently spotless, of course, to an extent. We don’t have much to begin with.

I walk into the living room where Cal still sits, the TV on while he scrolls through his phone. I grab the remote to flick through the channels.

“Hey,” Calum says suddenly, his eyes still glued to his phone. “Want to watch Spiderman?” he asks, finally glancing up from whatever is keeping him occupied.

I’m shocked. We haven’t watched that together since last semester so at first I think he’s joking. Calum’s face is telling me otherwise, he isn’t.

“Really?” I inquire.

“Yeah, really.”

Calum doesn’t have to ask me twice. I run and grab the DVD from its case and put it the player. The whole time we recite some of the best one-liners.

Calum says, “Who are you? Are you a cop?”

I recite, “Really? You seriously think I’m a cop? Cop in a skin-tight red and blue suit?

Later on Calum proclaims, “Yes, it’s a real knife. “

I say, “My weakness! Small knives. Anything but knives!” practically squealing.

During the last scene, in a high pitched voice Calum quotes, “Peter, don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

I reply with, “But those are the best kind.”

I like our quoting. I mean it clearly points out how lacking in excitement we are in regards to our lives, but it just reminds me a lot of Calum and I’s friendship.

Anyway, I get to be Spiderman every time. My real dream.

After the movie I look at Calum to see a wary look on his face.

“What?” I ask.

“So… the new Spiderman came out today,” Calum states. I think I know where he’s going with this and then it hits me.

“When’s the next showing?” I ask, a smile spreading across my face.

“Eight. I looked up time when I ask if you wanted to watch this one.”

I knew it. I’m glad my infectious geekiness is rubbing off on Calum as well. I feel like a proud parent right at this moment. He’s the one suggesting to go and see it. Not just for my benefit either.

Not only am I proud, but I’m also really thankful. Calum truly is the most thoughtful and sincerely genuine person I’ve ever met. Except when he’s trying to get laid.

The nearest movie theater is a fifteen minute walk from our place. It’s deserted most of the time except for the weekends. There seems to only be a handful people at a time. All college students too. It’s the only reason why this specific theater is still in business.

Calum and I take our walk, bundled in our hoodies and beanies. During the day our city is hotter than the sun I’m sure, but when that sun sets along the horizon it’s like hell froze over. Not once, not twice, but three times. There are days where I have to change my clothes three times because the weather is unbearable.

Once we pay for our tickets and shuffle our way through the door, we’re bombarded with a large Spiderman cutout that is almost quadruple my height.

“I think I’m going to steal that,” I say to Calum.

“You should go take a picture with it. Like go, squat in that same stance.”

I narrow my eyes at Cal. “Are you mocking me?” I ask laughing.

“No! I’m serious! Go, you idiot,” Calum replies and pushes me to the large cutout.

And that’s the story about how I took a picture with Spiderman. Mimicking his squatting position, arm out as if he’s shooting a web. I’m not proud of myself, but I’m also proud of myself.

“Here, I want a Slurpee,” I say. “Do you want anything?”

Calum covers his heart with his hand. “Me?” he declares, his jaw dropping. “Why, I would love some popcorn.”

While we’re waiting in line I see a few people I think I recognize from school, but for the most part everyone looks the same. No one particular stands out. It’s a cookie cutter of one person was molded and changed ever so effortlessly to become the definition of typical.  

We’re next to be waited on and I looked over at Calum and ask, “Do you think they would let me mix the blue raspberry and cherry flavors?”

“Uh, yeah… probably,” Calum says reassuringly.

“Good. They’re Spiderman colors and I feel like that’s fitting.”

Calum’s response is smacking across the shoulder. He doesn’t realize it actually fucking hurts and I hold in my immediate wince. “Ah!” I yell.

“Shut up and just buy me the popcorn,” he retorts.

I end up getting my Spiderman colored Slurpee and Calum gets his disgustingly drenched in butter popcorn that he proceeds to add more butter on. I almost throw up at the smell.

We end up picking seats in the theater right in the middle near the front. I want to be able to block out the rest of the bullshit people and children around me. I hear kids squawking all around me and I already feel annoyed and the previews haven’t even started it.

Still, nothing could defeat how excited I am for this movie. I’ve been waiting two years and can hardly wait another two seconds. I’m still in shock that Calum suggested we should go. Whatever, all I know is that I’m in a great mood.

Long story short. I felt like the whole movie was just… mediocre. The CGI was amazing. The cinematography was okay. But the whole plot and character development just fell apart. The relationship with Harry was completely rushed, but I perfectly understand because clearly he’s going to be the villain of _The Amazing Spiderman_ _3_ along with others. My guess is that one of theme will be Doctor Octopus since they showed his suit whenever Harry went around snooping in the lab. Overall, I felt content. Nothing could go wrong with Spiderman for me, really.

“So are we not going to talk about what we just saw?” Calum said after we left through the double doors of the building. I chuckle.

“Yeah, well… I’m sure we have the same thoughts.”

We did.

“Do you think Gwen Stacy is really dead?” I ask out of curiosity. That’s the thing that’s killing me. How could the writers do that? There has to be an explanation.

“Why would you even ask that? She obviously died. They had a funeral,” Cal retorts.

“Did you not see _The Dark Knight Rises_? Batman apparently died, but who did Alfred see with Selina years later? Bruce Wayne in the flesh! So don’t tell me that there isn’t a chance that Gwen Stacy, Spidey’s whole muse, is still alive.”

“Did we not see the same movie or were you just not paying attention again? New York city is Spiderman’s muse.”

Calum rolls his eyes. 

We head back to school and pick up a pizza on the way. I’m so hungry I feel like I could eat three easily. I also grab Mountain Dew from the place next door.

When we walk through the door Calum mimics my entrance from earlier today; screaming song lyrics and shimming through the front door. I laugh so hard I almost drop the pizza. As far as the liter of Mountain Dew goes, that definitely hits the floor with athud.

“Did I really look like that?” I laugh through my teeth. Hardly able to get a word out between my giggles.

“Yeah!” Calum says, shimming again. I shake my head and beg him to never let me dance even when no one is looking.

For some reason or another Calum and I decide it’s in our best interest to keep this moving marathon thriving. Now that we finished _The Amazing Spiderman_ duo, we move on to some other heroes. First, we watch _The Green Lantern_ , not my personal favorite, but who doesn’t like a pretty face like Ryan Reynolds?

Then we finish our night with _Kick Ass_. The best movie chronicling true acts of heroism ever created. And although Calum and I have both seen it before we laugh at almost every line.

By the time we’re done watching movies and almost cleaning up the place it’s three in the morning and we figure it’s probably reasonable to go to bed.

I crawl into my sheets with my boxers still on waiting for Calum to turn off the light. Once he does, I realize the real light is shining through the window. A combination of the moonlight and lamppost outside our window illuminates our whole room. I can clearly see Cal’s face from my bed.

“Hey, Michael, I’m not tired,” Calum laughs.

“Me too!” I admit. I really feel wide awake. I could go run a while if I could. I would never want too, but I really do feel I have the energy and stamina to do so.

Calum and I start talking about a party he heard about on Saturday. It’s on campus which is the definition of sketchy. If we get caught at a party on campus we’re fucked. Calum says not to worry about it. We need to take advantage of it. He says that he thinks Ashton is thinking of talking to Violet and asking her to go and that he may invite some “lady friends” as well. When I’m skeptical about his choice of words he simplifies it to just “friends.” Calum also suggests that I invite Luke.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him about it. I think he had a good time last weekend. Could you get us booze?”

“Yeah, of course,” Calum says. “Hey, one other thing. I wanted to let you know that Ash and I were talking and we like, really like Luke. We think he’s… good. You know? We had a great time with him last weekend. That guy is so fucking funny and quick and witty. It’s incredible.”

Hearing this come from Calum is amazing. Especially considering what he said earlier today about being slightly envious of the relationship I have with Luke.

A smile spreads across my face and I can only hope the luminescent light doesn’t give it away.

“No, I like Luke I do. He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before and that’s nice. I don’t know how to explain it,” I reply instead. Although I appreciate the comment coming from Cal, I don’t want to talk up the relationship I do have. It’s still brand new. For both of us. We’re really big idiots that need to take baby steps.

“I guess you don’t have to. The way you two act around one another explains it all,” Calum admits.

“What do you mean?” I inquire curiously.

“It’s kind of ridiculous, but like I said, Ash and I were talking about it and it’s like you’ve known one another for years.” Calum pauses before he dramatically sighs. “And you’re really lucky, you know? Really lucky. It’s like you were miserable this whole year and then boom, a permanent smile is now planted on your face. Morning, noon, and night.”

“Cal, I have not been miserable this whole year. I – “

But Calum interrupts me before I can finish. “Sure, okay, you weren’t miserable, you were just satisfied with everything. Like me and Ash, we’re like… okay people, you know?”

I readjust myself by propping myself on my forearms and see Calum sitting upright in his bed, his hands covering his face, dragging his cheeks down in a melodramatic gesture.

“Oh my _God_ , _Michael_ ,” he emphasizes. “I’m just trying to tell you that I’m happy you’re getting _laid_ , you fucking _idiot_ ,” he snorts, muffling his voice in his hands.

“Oh!” I almost yell, falling back over on my back.

Calum is still laughing when he says, “No, but really. Like I like the guy. He’s good. I hope he sticks around. That’s all.”

“Yeah, me too,” I say before drifting off into my distant dream land.


	8. Chapter 8

The sound of Calum slamming the front door wakes me from my sleep. Another pool of drool puddles on my pillow. I guess it would be as good as ever to get up now.

Calum must have practice. His running shoes are gone, along with his ball and his duffle. If he’s gone I have nothing to do other than begin to study for my psychology final for Monday.

First and foremost, I must take a shower. A daily necessity for my life. Right when I get out of the shower I realize that I should probably dye my hair today and not next weekend since I’ll be studying for finals and packing to go back home. Time to make a trip to the beauty supply store. Maybe I’ll drag Luke or Calum with me.

I text Luke asking if he wants to go on an adventure later.

For the first time this morning I look at my clock. It reads 11:48 and I decide that maybe I should start studying for that psych final. I know B told me that I’m guaranteed an A, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.

I mean, I try in all my classes, but it’s clear that most of the time I’m just terrible when it comes to school. It’s just enough to get by and not be on academic probation. And I would absolutely hate life if it ever came to that. I would truly be miserable if I was forced to leave this school. Because contrary to what Calum said yesterday about me being absolutely miserable, I love it here. I don’t care that I can’t lose track of how many friends I have or how many parties I went to this last weekend or where I get invited. I _literally don’t care_.

And I know that status means a great deal to people. That aspect of life doesn’t stop in high school. It goes on forever. It’s a life time guarantee.

I study ten different addictions in detail. I memorize their definitions, recoveries, behaviors, biological aspects, personality affects, and every trait in between. And by the end of an hour I almost have all of the terms memorized. I schedule a plan to study a little every day this weekend and move on to other material we learned since the last test.

A muffled ding rings from my phone. I realize it’s buried underneath my pillow and see that it’s a response from Luke.

_Sure! What time do you want me over?_

I tell him to come by in an hour. I realize that it’s also my turn to should clean the house.

 _Fuck_.

I hate chores. I hate cleaning. I hate scrubbing. However, the outcome to me is what I desire most. At the beginning of the year both Calum and I decided that one of us should clean the house every week. _Unless_ , if one decides to throw a party than that said person would at least straighten up the next day. This rule was specifically made for Calum.

Grabbing the bleaches and other cleaners from under the sink I begin my duties: cleaning the windows, vacuuming, wiping stuff, and taking out the trash. It only takes me an hour. Thank God our dorm is so small.

By the time I plant myself on my couch to watch TV there is a familiar knock at my front door, almost like a jingle.

The door opens to reveal Luke’s bright, cheerful face on the other side. I feel the corners of my mouth begin to tingle as I try to suppress how excited I am to see him. The feeling of suspiring doesn’t last long, I completely give in allowing a huge grin grow as he walks through my door.

“Hey,” I say, letting him in.

“Hey? What’s up?” he asks.

Luke is wearing a shirt with the sleeves cut off exposing his arms and revealing some of his torso along with a snapback. I feel my knees grow week and my breath hitch in my throat just at the sight of him.

“What?” Luke questions, a sincere look of concern on his face.

I stumble for words. I don’t know what to tell him. “I, uh. I – I – I… You just look really hot,” I blurt in a whisper. I feel like gagging on my own words and walk away, lowering my head in shame and leaving Luke with a triumphant smile on his face. He bites his tongue at me out of cockiness.

“Wow, just the sight of me makes you so flustered,” Luke taunts, lifting his eyebrows lewdly.

“Uh huh,” I mumble, feeling my cheeks glow pink.

I look around the room for a distraction. Like I would find one… anything is better from looking Luke in the eyes right now.

“So,” I finally say. “My plan was to dye my hair before tonight. Do you want to walk to the store with me? There’s like this place that sells really good dye a few blocks down.”

“Yeah, sure. What are you planning to do with it?”

I shrug. I still haven’t thought that far.

On our way to the store I ask Luke what he did yesterday. He tells me about his day, beginning to end. Basically he went to class in the morning, then another, went home, and played Grand Theft Auto for like seven hours. Apparently he lost count then moved on to play Skate until he passed out.

I didn’t take Luke as a video game geek, stranger things have happened I guess. We talk about some of our favorite games. I tell him that the last time I played anything was during winter break. I told him that I would move some of my consoles up here but my family wouldn’t let me since I didn’t buy them myself. They just sit at home collecting dust.

“Wait, I take that back,” I say. “Ashton has a PlayStation 2 up here and there are times we’ll do all-nighters playing some ridiculous games.”

There was one time first semester when Calum and I started hanging out with Ashton and the first thing we bonded over were video games. We went to our nearest GameStop and bought almost everything we could. It didn’t matter what it was, we just wanted to beat it. We haven’t done that for weeks now.

“Huh… We should change that,” I say, chewing the inside of my cheek.

When we walk into the store the owner recognizes me immediately and shoots me a huge smile, welcoming us into her store. I lead us to the hair dyes that are my particular favorite.

“I don’t know what to do!” I announce to no one in particular.

“Wait, were you that guy that had the bright red hair in the beginning of the year? It was like super bright red, not like a natural red,” Luke inquires, picking up a glossy red tube. “Kinda like this.”

I wince from his question. “Yeah,” I sigh. “That… that was me.”

“That’s cool. Why red?”

“I wanted to be a the little mermaid.”

This sends Luke into a fit of laughter and he giggles to himself, I rummage through the tubes. I can’t decide what to do.

“Well, what color did you have before?” Luke asks.

“It was like, a navy blue color. Now I look like I’m old as fuck,” I reply, pulling at my grey-blue colored hair.

“No,” he protests. “I like it.”

“No you don’t. You’re just saying that.”

“No, I really like it!” he insists. “How about this one?” Luke suggests a bright blue shade, the color of a smurf. “It’s even called Bad Boy… Perfect!”

I shove his shoulder and roll my eyes. “Ugh, just go away. You’re no help.”

In retrospect, I didn’t mean it, but is harder to try to settle on a hair dye with him here. I haven’t gone shopping for dyes with anyone before. Usually it’s me just going in and picking the first thing that catches my eye. I wouldn’t even be searching for dyes right now, but I simply can’t take this aftermath color anymore.

“What about two colors?” Luke offers. This perks my interest. Two colors. That’s something I haven’t done for a while.

“Okay.” Right away I pick up the darkest shade of black. “Black could go with anything so there’s part one. I just need something to go along with it.”

Tube after tube Luke picks one up after the other. I deny them all, until he hands me a neon lavender color.

“This is it!” I yell, snatching it from his hands. “This is it. I can feel it in my soul.”

Once we check out and I’m left with my tubes of hair dye. Luke asks me other colors I had in the past.

“Well, counting down from what I recently had. There was navy blue, flamingo pink because the red never came out, the fire truck color, I think blonde was before that, and before that was teal. That’s as far as I remember. The rest is basically a blur.”

“Aw, I would’ve loved to see you with your blonde hair. You probably looked like a little cotton ball!” he squeaks. I make a pouty face and look at Luke with puppy eyes. “Oh, please. You would make an adorable cotton ball.” I can’t help to break my stare and start to laugh.

Once we get home I review the directions on the label of the tubes and break out the foil out of my room.

Luke is leaning back in the chair on my desk looking through one of my notebooks. Wait. It’s not a notebook. It’s the fucking journal that I write my song lyrics in. I drop the tubes of dye and foil that are currently cradled in my hands and they drop to the floor.

“No!” I screech, ripping the book from his hands. “Oh my God, what were you reading?”

“What? What’s wrong?” Luke asks.

“Please, you can look through my shit. I literally have no problem with that, but this thing is a mess. Don’t look at it. Please.” Luke is giggling to himself, still leaning back in the chair. “Luke, I’m being serious.”

Luke realizes that I’m not joking, that my voice isn’t being endearing or amusing, and gets up from the chair. He walks over to me and holds my face in his hands, cradling my jaw in his palms, and forcing me to look into his eyes.

A wide grin appears on his face. “You, Michael Clifford,” Luke begins, “are a beautiful poet.” He searches for my face for some reaction, but I express nothing. He moves my head down and kisses my forehead. “I’m sorry. I won’t pick it up again.”

I feel my heart ache, but I’m thankful for his apology. “Thank you,” I say.

“Mhm! Now, let’s get started with your masterpiece of hair. Do you want me to help?” Luke offers.

Nodding my head I say, “Sure!”

It ends up being a hair coloring extravaganza in Calum and mine’s bedroom. I throw Luke the box of purple latex gloves that I use when I dye hair, telling him that he’ll thank me later. I have to open the window because the chemicals from the dye reek so badly and Luke and I begin to feel really lightheaded from the smell. Basically, I put my hair in Luke’s hands and let him do his thing. I tell him I want mostly black with stripes of purple throughout. With every new strand he tells me that he’s terrified and he knows I’ll hate it.

“I’m not a professional, Michael!” he repeats, again and again.

And I continue to reply with scoffs and numerous amounts of eye rolls. I tell Luke it’s not that difficult. Take a few strands of hair, swirl some color in it, and fold it into a rectangle with the foil. A few easy steps that is making me listen to Luke’s concern for a half hour as he puts the colors in my hair. After he’s finished I start a timer for 45 minutes, allowing the perfect time to let my hair soak.

Luke rips off his gloves and washes his hands in my bathroom. I slide right next to him, one hand drifting around his waist and the other resting gently on his stomach. “Thank you!” I say.

“You’re wel– “ he begins, turning his head and as he does so I plant a kiss right on the corner of his mouth. Luke shakes his head quickly from shock. “You’re welcome,” he smiles, drying his hands on his jeans and pulling my close, kissing me this time. During our embrace I feel foil gently brush my neck and I begin to laugh, breaking us apart.

“I have foil in my hair,” I say pulling away. “I’m sorry!” Luke must think it’s pretty funny too because he begins to chuckle also. “Let’s go watch TV or something,” I suggest. I really wish we could just fool around to pass time, but I look like someone from the movie _Signs_ at the moment and couldn’t possibly imagine the noise that my foiled hair would begin to make.

Luke and I for once actually sit on the couch and I prop my feet on the coffee table in front of us. Luke hangs his legs over mine and I give him a look of disapproval. He responds with a wide grin, exposing his dimples. He’s so tall his legs practically touch the ground. “You’re such a loser,” I tease, scrunching my face in his direction.

“Wait! Leave your face like that!” Luke squeals, digging for his phone in his pocket. He lifts up his phone and takes a picture of the ridiculous expression on my face. “Okay, now that beautiful, handsome face will show up every time you call me. Wonderful!”

“Fine, okay, fine!” I say back. “I’ll get you back Hemmings, I’ll get you back!”

“I’ll be waiting,” Luke says smugly, mimicking the same expression that I did before.

When Luke is distracted by the cartoon on the TV I reach for his phone and begin to take pictures of myself. By the end of fifteen seconds there are about fifty pictures on Luke’s phone of me at my worst. Some of the most hideous looks I think I could give. I set two of my personal favorites as his lock screen and background. Gently, I set his phone back down where he left it, perfectly getting away with my actions.

“Okay, I think it’s time to wash out my hair,” I proclaim, slapping a hand on Luke’s thigh, gesturing him to get his legs off mine. “I’m just gonna go wash it under the faucet of the bathtub. You can just wait here.”

Luke shrugs, “I can go sit on your toilet while you do it. I wanna see how it looks!” Luke seems more excited to see the outcome than I do.

I carefully remove the foil that wraps my hair. Clumps of bright purple and black cover my head.

“Ah, dude!” Luke marvels. “It’s gonna look so fuckin’ sick!”

“Yeah, I really like this purple color.”

After all the foil is removed and in the trash, I turn on the water and bend over at the edge of the tub. Luke immediately slaps my ass as it sticks straight in the air.

“Okay, later,” I smile, giving him a wink.

“Promise?”

Yeah, I fucking promise. Why would I give up an opportunity to fool around with him?

I run my head under the water and immediately dark grey colored water runs down the drain. I grab the shampoo and begin to scrub my head, allowing the soap to completely immerse my hair in bubbles. I thoroughly rinse everything from my hair and finish off with conditioner.

“I’m home!” I hear Calum yell as he walks in the front door, followed by said door slamming.

“Hey, Cal!” I shout back, my voice echoing from being face down in the tub.

“What are you – oh, hi Luke!” Calum says as he stands from outside the bathroom. “Doing your hair again, Michael? What’s it this time?”

“It’s black and this purple color.” Calum says something about going out again and meeting Ashton somewhere but I can’t hear his exact words because of the running water. I hear another door slam telling me that he is gone once again.

After I’m done washing my hair and rinsing out every little bit of dye I reach for a towel and prepare my hair to blow dry it.

I get from the tub and see Luke actually looking up at me for once. He stares at me expressionless as I stand right in front of him.

“You know? I actually like you from this angle,” I say.

Luke immediately bursts out laughing and I have no idea why.

“What?” I ask. “I don’t get it.”

“Do you really like me at this angle?” Luke repeats, poking a finger at my crotch that sits right in front of his face.

“Oh, _shit_. Yeah, I – I didn’t mean like that,” I stutter. “No, I take that back. I totally mean it.”

Luke gets up from where he was sitting, biting at his lip ring. “Do you?”

Luke grabs my waist and pulls me close to him once again. I stumble backwards and lean against the wall for support. This time no foil braces my neck to ruin this. He runs his hands from my hips, up my arms, and leaves them grasping my jaw, pressing his lips firmly against my own. Gentle pants rush out his lips as he makes his was down my neck, leaving his mark. I can’t help but to moan from the depths within me. Clearly blood rushes through my whole body, my dick being impacted the most.

His legs stand between my own, his back slightly arched. While his hands hold me close to him, allowing to keep me balanced, my own cling to his back. The feeling of his muscles contract and fall as he moves his whole body against mine. 

Luke begins to run his hands through my hair and breaks away, looking directly in my eyes.

“You know,” he begins, his voice smooth, quiet. “You should probably go blow dry your hair like you said you were? Don’t want you catching a cold.” Luke is still panting as he tries so hard to sound like a complete ass.

Well, he is a complete ass.

“Well, fuck, I wonder what distracted me.”

“That was your fault.” Yeah, it was my fault.

Now that my hair is tangled – thanks to said complete ass – I brush through it, some purple peeking through when I look in the mirror. The hair dryer begins to blow away my flowing hair, revealing quickly the dark and bright colors. I notice Luke standing to the side, gnawing on the inside of his cheek and at his lip ring, patiently waiting for my hair to dry.

Soon enough my hair is completely free of dampness and warm from the heat. I run my hands through it, feeling the sleek hair slipping through my fingers. I tug at it, examining the colors. I’m amazed at how bright really stuck.

“You look really hot,” Luke says suddenly, grabbing my hips from behind.

I look at us in the mirror for a second as his hands rest where they are. I see Luke look at us as well and wonder how he views us in the mirror; how different we see each other. I would ask, but I’m afraid to hear the answer.

“Thank you,” I finally reply. Luke rests his head on my shoulder, gently pressing his chin into the slope of my neck. He leans forward and kisses me right where my cheek meets my hairline. “You’re just okay.”

Luke kisses me harder when I say that.

 He lets me go and he ends up taking a seat on my bed while I exile myself from all temptation and decide to sit at my desk.

“So, what time are we leaving for the city?” Luke asks crossing his legs and propping his head up on his arm. His eyebrows furrow and he looks like a lost little puppy.

“Like at six? It takes an hour or so to get there from the station a few blocks away. Then we could get like pizza or something up there and then Abby’s gig starts at nine, technically eight, but she doesn’t go on until nine,” I say, glancing over at the clock that reads 4:30. That gives us an hour and a half.

Luke nods, “Yeah, sounds good.”

And for some reason, Luke and I decide that it’s a great idea to go back to his place to play video games until six. He says he needs to go back anyways to grab a jacket, but I know it’s because he desperately wants to kick my ass in some skating game he was talking about earlier. He says his friend got it and it was a piece of shit. But lo and behold, it’s a fucking gem in Luke’s eyes. Apparently they stopped making it because it sold like two copies, including Luke’s. Anyway, it’s like the only multiplayer game for PS3.

Luke’s place is two buildings away from mine, but in a nice area. He has a view of a beautiful patch of green grace on one side and on another a garden that people volunteer to care for. Why do we always seem to be at my place?

We walk inside of Luke’s dorm and it’s exactly the same style of Calum’s and mine; one large living space with a small pantry completed with one couch, one table, two chairs, and a coffee table. A huge poster of a half-naked cheerleaders is taped right above their TV. From where I stand I see a tower of about fifty beer cans, stacking on top of one another and two empty bottles of Smirnoff Ice. The rest of the place is pretty spotless, besides the cans and bottles. Like no one really lives here at all.

“Um, I’m going to see if my roommate is here,” Luke says and walks back towards his bedroom. I decide to take a seat on Luke’s couch. A huge massive stain covers a whole cushion.

I think Luke mentioned to me that his roommate is named Landon or London, something like that and that he was a total alcoholic and stoner and added, “Not in a good way” after how I mentioned to him on several accounts my past with pot. He even thinks that there is more going on in the drug use department, but again, he really has no idea. This roommate practically doesn’t even live here and won’t be coming back next semester because he failed every course so far. It makes me wonder how he even made into this college in the first place.

“Okay, Linden isn’t here,” Luke comes back smiling.

“Does Linden know about me?” I blurt, I don’t mean to be nosy, but I want to know Luke’s status in regards to telling people that he’s gay or even if he’s mentioned me. I mean, it’s not like we’re serious, but that doesn’t kill my curiosity.

“Yeah, totally. The day after we met he saw us in the caf and he said later on his incoherent nasally voice, ‘I knew something was up with you two man. Good for you, bro. Like, really, good for you’ and he sauntered away after. That was Monday I think I’ve seen him once since then,” Luke shrugs. “He’s alright. I basically have the place to myself.”

I throw my hands up and shake my head, my eyes bulging. “If you have this place to yourself then why are we always at mine?”

“Your place is better.”

“But we have Calum.”

“Eh,” Luke shrugs. “He’s never really there either.”

True.

Luke takes a sit after grabbing his controllers for this God forsaken game. Like every other person on this planet, I agree I am very completive and have a very distasteful of language when I lose. Who doesn’t? But apparently the combination of me and Luke is like a nuclear bomb going off between us both. We’re so flustered at the complexity of this awful game that we can’t even control ourselves. Simply, every other word is fuck.

The game itself isn’t actually that bad, it’s pretty funny. The graphics are terrible – really didn’t see that coming, but it’s alright to play. It’s impossible to land a trick, it’s impossible to even skate. The best part is that I can sabotage Luke’s character, which happens to be a knock off Ronald McDonald. On the other hand, I’m knock off Darth Vader. I’m not sure which is more comical.

Also, Luke is terrible at video games or at least this one. I totally kick his ass every round until he finally beats me.

“Ha!” Luke screams at the top of his lungs. “I fucking win!”

I give Luke a blank, expressionless look and swipe the control out of his hands and proceed to throw it on the ground.

“Who fucking wins now?” I shout back, taunting.

Luke pounces on me and decides it’s a great fucking idea to start tickling every inch of my body. I should’ve never shown weakness that one day when I actually admitted that I was ticklish.

I hate my life.

Throwing my hands in his face trying to get him to stop, my whole body is completely shocked. I can barely move and I feel paralyzed. On top of that I’m only able to give him a few threats of hurting him to make him stop.

“Luke!” I squeal, barely able to get out my words. “Luke, we need to go. We need to go.” To make him physically end his reign of torment I grab his face, exactly how he does to me. “We need to go,” I repeat. His face is squished in my hands and right when he’s about to jump off he reaches down and pecks me.

“Alright, let’s go,” he says, readjusting his snapback and grabbing a dark jacket hanging off one of the chairs pushed in at the table.

I glance at my hair one time before we leave. It turned out fucking great.

It’s only a few blocks to the station, where we pay or tickets and wait for the next train to come. I glance at my phone to check the time, 6:03 and it’s scheduled for 6:05. Perfect.

Once we’re on the train, seated in a far corner, away from the rest of the riders we start talking about our lives back in our hometowns; something that I’m usually opposed to. I hated high school. I was sick of my city. In general, I just needed to leave that place and get away from the same scenery I saw for eighteen years. I miss my family, and a few friends, sure, but that’s where it stops. There are no nostalgic feelings I left behind in the terrible fucking place.

Luke on the other hand felt differently. Exactly the opposite of my mind. He loved high school. He had a tightly knit group of friends that were always inseparable, at least at school. Once Luke was home, he was there for good until the weekend to pass. He really has a connection with his family too, that much is certain, because when Luke begins to talk about his family, his face lights up, and beams in a way that I’ve never seen before. Not like how he usually does when he talks about how much he loves something or shows any ounce of passion, but it’s just love and it’s an adorable look on him as he starts talking about his siblings.

We bounce stories off each other. Starting at the time where my best friend at the time, Jack, during our sophomore year got stoned and thought it would be a great idea to scoop macaroni on a Big Mac and eat it. Needless to say, I don’t eat either of those foods anymore.

Or the time I got third place with this girl from my music class at the talent show junior year. I think I got a gift card somewhere as a prize. I remember she sang a Taylor Swift song and begged me to learn it despite my protests for a song maybe by a female artist with a voice more like hers. In the end, we played the Swift song.

Then there was the time where Jack had this huge crush on this girl named Rachel and she shot him down like a fucking bird in the sky and he was heartbroken. That girl left him literally crushed. Anyway, I convinced her otherwise with my smooth charm and complete sass. That’s also when I learned that people loved talking to me, being around me. I don’t know why, because I can’t take anyone for more than five minutes at a time.

Luke tells me about the time where he was voted Homecoming Prince, not King, but Prince sophomore year. He said he has no idea how. Clearly, he knows how, he’s brilliant, likeable, and personable and people do love him. I tell him they just don’t know the real you, the really terrible parts. All he can do is mimic the disgusting, hideous face I made earlier. He also says he brought a boy as a date to that Homecoming dance.

“It was pretty cool actually. People were surprised for sure. Everyone kept on telling me that they were happy I came out that way, with like a surprise and I was so confused. Like, sure I kept this relationship for my private life, I never considered an act of coming out. I don’t know. I just really wanted to bring this guy to a dance and hangout with my friends but instead it became a huge ordeal. I wasn’t even dating the guy really,” Luke explains. I feel like the most part I can relate to Luke’s story; the reactions, the “congratulations” of it all. And it brings up memories that I want to choke down in the back of my mind.

“Yeah, I understand,” is all I say.

“What about you?” Luke asks.

“Well, there was this guy Aidan. We were in the same friend circle and he basically was curious so we did that for like two years. I look back and gag at the thought of kissing and well, _doing things_ , with him every time we did. We definetly didn’t like each other, we were just bored,” I laugh. “It was ridiculous.”

“Yeah?” Luke laughs. “That’s it?”

I shake my head. “No, there were a few guys last semester that I made out with at parties and stuff. I didn’t even get their names or anything. I was just one horny idiot.”

“That sounds like you.”

“Yeah?” I mimic. “You?

“Nope, that one guy was it for me. I always had something going on to worry about anyone else but myself. Friends, family, work, school. It was all a balancing act. I couldn’t handle to throw someone into that mix.”

Again, we begin to share stories until our train stops at our destination. Filing out of the train with the rest of the passengers, we make a left and dart to the pizza place that Abby told me about. Actually, she mentioned a few places around the venue, but I’m not missing an opportunity for pizza.

Within ten minutes we find the venue; on the outskirts of the city, completely hidden away. When we pass by a few people are shuffling around in the front, a few guys stand outside smoking cigarettes, one holds a beer. The pizza place, luckily, is right across the street, a complete dive with only four tables in the whole place. It’s about the size Calum and I’s living room.

We make our order easy and buy a medium cheese pizza and take a seat next to the window. I begin to people watch all the strangers walking by and can’t help but to wonder where their destination is; what they’re doing with their lives right now. Are they on their way home? On the way to a date? Planning on going to a club?

After a few minutes our pizza is ready and delivered right to our table.

“Thanks!” We call out to the employee. He gives us a head nod as a response.

Immediately we reach our slices. Luke recoils in shock from the heat of the pizza.

“Oh my God, that’s hot!” Luke shouts.

“You’re fucking weak,” I say, grabbing two slices off the plate. “It’s all the wrist.”

Luke relaxes his whole body and gives me a look of seriousness but quickly goes back to pulling a cheesy piece of his own.

“So about tomorrow, are we still going to that party?” Luke asks as he chews the rest of his first slice.

“Yeah, if you want too.” I look at Luke when I say, “I don’t think I’m going to drink though. Like, I think I’ll just smoke before and…” My voice trails off waiting for a reaction from Luke.

I know some people have really strong opinions when it comes to smoking, anything, in general and I’m currently hanging on every word from his response.

“Okay, that’s cool. Do you think Calum could get me some alcohol though? Like is that okay?” Luke questions, wincing ever so slightly from the casualness of his sentence.

I nod. “Yeah, sure. Since his big brother is twenty one it’s not a problem at all. I think he’s already got what he wants so I’ll text him right now. What do you want?” I don’t know why I ask him this. It’s the dumbest thing ever. Luke’s first time drinking was last weekend. I can’t expect him to have a preference of anything yet. I want to punch myself in the face.

Luke totally shrugs. “You can tell him to surprise me I guess,” he says, pulling on his lip ring. “Give him my number so he could tell me how much I owe him.”

I pull out my phone asking Calum to get something for Luke. He texts back immediately stating he’s with his big brother right now and asks if Luke wants anything special. I reply saying no, but suggest that maybe a fruity vodka would do the trick. I know SKYY has some good pineapple or blood orange thing that was really good.

“Calum’s on it,” I say moments later looking up from my phone. I notice that Luke has cheese hooked in his lip ring. How can he not notice? “You got a little… you know,” I laugh as I gesture towards my own lip.

“No I don’t!” Luke shouts and reaches for a lip ring. Sure enough he’s shocked to see cheese between his fingers. “Wow, that’s something new.”

We soon realize that it’s almost 8:30 and we begin to make our way to the venue across the street. It’s called Fred’s and it’s really a hole in the wall, which is entirely misleading when we walk in. At the front I tell the woman working that our names might be on a list. I say my name is Michael Clifford and she tells me I have a plus one. We go right down the hallway entering into the venue.

This place is a decent size for a local band to play a show, it beats a garage or basement by miles. Right away there are people at high tables, laughing and drinking beer. Clearly college aged kids just hanging out on a Friday night. Luke and I however walk right to the stage and make our way to the front row. So far about fifty people so far are here, waiting for Abby’s band to come on. Everyone is laughing and having a great time. It’s a really good atmosphere and I can tell everyone is really going to love Abby and her band.

Suddenly the lights begin to dim and the whole crowd begins to yell and shout at the entrance of the band. It’s completely black, no possible shadows could be seen in the whole place.

Luke grabs my sides and whispers in my ear, “I’m scared!” jokingly.

I roll my eyes and realize he can’t see me, so I laugh.

“Helloooo, everybooooooody,” its Abby’s voice, drawing out her vowels.

They begin playing a lively song to get the decent sized crowd moving around. Abby leaps from side to side belting her voice into the microphone. Her afro hair bouncing along with her. She looks really great in her cheetah print cut shirt, black shorts, and vans. Not her usual attire, it’s more casual and I can tell that was her intention.

“Is that the one that’s your friend?” Luke shouts over the music, his head bobs and weaves to the sound of the instruments.

I nod back, our eyes meeting intensely. And for a moment I lose touch with all my senses.

An absolute moment of true bliss.

I tilt my head back ever so slightly and kiss Luke in the midst of the crowd. He gives me a bright grin as we go back to listening to Abby’s band.

“Hey, everybody! How are you guys doing?” Abby says inter her microphone as she reaches for her water bottle. “Thanks for being here. I’m assuming most of you go to school with me and that’s great. Go Knights!” Insert cheering from the crowd. “Anyway, thank you for being here. My name is Abby and we are Invisible Pioneers.” The crowd goes crazy again and Abby just basks with her smile on stage. “Alright, this is a cover by a little band called Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Sing along if you know it!”

The band begins to do the first beats of Heads Will Roll and everyone basically loses their mind. People are singing and jumping along to the sound. I even turn behind me to see a couple in the back dancing like scene from an 80’s movie. All by themselves in the back corner, simply not giving a fuck about the rest of the world, loving every minute of the cover.

The next song they play is an original and I think it’s a song Abby tried singing to me once. I think it might be about a break up but the speakers in this place suck so I can’t really hear the exact lyrics. However, Abby’s voice does sound incredible as it hits every note perfectly. She really works the stage.

The song winds down to a mellow tone then ceases completely. “So this next one is dedicated to the guy at the bar wearing the hat with the Zelda logo. Yeah, his name’s Sean. I made out with him last week and I’m really stoked he’s here tonight. Thanks Sean.” Abby winks. Her voice is sweet and her eyes are sparkling. She laughs and shakes her head at what she just said. She starts singing a sweet sounding sound. Her voice carrying though the whole bar. Echoing against the walls.

Out of curiosity, I look over at the bar where in fact Sean is, leaning against the wood frame. He returns the smile to Abby, his eyes shimmering against the blue lights that flash on stage. I’m shocked that he’s here. That out of every guy who has thrown themselves at Abby she chooses Sean. She obviously cordially invited him tonight. Makes me wonder if she’s not telling me the whole truth about their current relationship.

In the midst of the song, Abby scans the front row. Her eyes landing on me. She immediately grows a huge smile on her face, ear to ear. She jumps ever so slightly, sending me a tiny wave like the dork she is. Completely forgetting she’s performing in front of like seventy people now.

After the song, she shrieks into the mic. “Ah! One of my fellow music majors is here. A really great guy, by the name of Michael. Anyway, just wanted to say hey,” she says, not giving two fucks yet again being on the stage. I gesture a small wave back to her and yell, “YOU’RE HOT!” extremely loud, which makes everyone laugh really hard. Abby included.

“Thanks, Michael. Anyway, here’s another cover song. It’s called Drive Me Wild by The Runaways. Enjoy.”

 Abby picked really good songs to cover. Her voice matches perfectly with the tones of the singers and the band really keeps up the pace. Even though the speakers could be updated, Abby and the band are truly killing it on stage.

Immediately after Drive Me Wild, Invisible Pioneers play an original. Something more acoustic sounding, slower, but a beautiful to hear nonetheless.

“Okay, now, we got two more for you. Thank you very much for being here tonight. We are Invisible Pioneers and we’d love for you to check on every media site available and listen out for our music. Thank you so much for a wonderful night, stay safe!” Abby belts into the microphone and jumps in place before they start playing.

It’s a song that’s super catchy, and pop sounding. Like it would be heard on the local alternative radio. It really gets everyone dancing and bouncing around again. It’s quick and fast paced, but I can tell I’ll be humming the tune for the next few days.

As I begin to sway around to the music, I realize Luke has somehow slid slightly behind me. He smiles as I look at him and slides his arm around my waist. Usually I wouldn’t be okay with this public display, even though it’s the lowest version of PDA possible, but it feels good. Not to mention I definetly kissed him earlier, but it feels good that he’s with me, so close in this kind of atmosphere. It’s a quick reminder that this whole thing is actually real.

“This is our last one!” Abby taunts, singing into the microphone.

The guitarist begins to tap his foot to a beat and strum his guitar. Within the first few notes the whole crowd screams from the recognition of the song. Another cover. This one I know too, I Bet You Would Look Good on the Dance Floor by Arctic Monkeys. Luke shouts right next to me, clearly approving the song choice that Invisible Pioneers chose.

As the song progresses, Abby uses more and more of the stage. Her feet smacking against the hard floor, running around using all the space she can. She ends up running over to me and squatting in front of me and Luke. She makes faces as us as she sings and shuffles my hair before she gets up again. This Abby is distinctive compared to the one I know from theater class. She doesn’t belong in a classroom, she belongs on a stage.

The crowd cheers for Abby and the rest of the Invisible Pioneers until they exit the stage, a few hollers are thrown out even when the lights are turned on.

“Dude, I had no idea they were so good!” Luke says, clearly baffled that I have friends with talent.

“I know, she’s really great.”

In the corner of my eye I see petite little Abby skip from the side of the stage. It takes me a moment to realize that she’s running to the arms of Sean who is patiently waiting for her, a grin on his face. He picks her up in his arms and kisses her right there. No one else seems to be staring but me so I look away from embarrassment.

“Here, let’s go say hi before we leave,” I gesture over to Abby and Sean.

Abby is completely focused on Sean even when we’re standing right in front of her. She sits on the top of the bar, Sean leaning to the side. Her hands are entwined in the necklace around her neck. When she finally notices me and Luke she screams.

“I’m so happy you could make it!” She says, throwing her arms around my neck.

“Yeah, yeah any time. You were great, but you probably already know that.”

She smiles, thanks me, and turns her attention to Luke. “Well, I’m guessing you’re Luke. You’re cute. Tall, typical boyish style, good eyes and fucking great hair. You did well Michael, good choice.”

Luke winces at Abby’s comments, which sends her into a fit of giggles. He ends up laughing as well. “I’m Luke,” he says, extending his hand. “You really did great up there. That stage is your fucking place.”

“Thanks!” Abby exclaims. Her eyes are sparkling as she basks in the glow of her performance. “Oh, here. Let me introduce you to Sean.”

Sean, Abby, Luke and I end up talking until 11. I don’t even realize it but we have to make it to the train soon. We say our goodbyes and congratulate Abby once again for performance. She jumps right back into the arms of Sean.

On our way to the train we talk about how great the show really was. Luke keeps complimenting Abby’s voice by saying “Wow! Just wow” repeatedly. Clearly, he’s at a loss for words. I, too, really love it. The atmosphere was perfect and luckily enough the crowd was a bunch of college students just wanting to get drunk and jump around for a little bit. Abby’s electrifying personality combined with the whole band made for one of the best shows I’ve ever been too, but maybe I’m being a little biased. There’s something about the whole experience telling me that Abby and the Invisible Pioneers are really going to go somewhere.

As we enter the shuttle that takes us home, my shoe gets caught in the crevice between the concrete and floor of the train, forcing me to fall flat on my face. Why is this constantly happening to _me_?

Luke begins to chuckle as he turns around to see me laying on the floor.

I point my finger at Luke, knowing well what he’s about to say. “Luke, I swear to God, don’t fucking say it!”

“When are you going to stop falling for me, Michael?” Luke chuckles, holding out his hand for me to grab, which I refuse.

“Fucking shut up,” I remark. “Just leave me here so I can soak gracefully in my embarrassment.”

 Luke pulls me from the ground, holding my forearms. “Thanks,” I mutter.

After plucking me from the floor, he kisses me and we take our seats on the completely empty train. We sit in the far corner, huddled in a corner. For a while, there is complete silence, we just stare out the window at the passing buildings. The city right now is truly alive and breathing. Lights flash, cars are everywhere. It’s like the whole city is throwing a gigantic party for everyone to attend and Luke and I are spectators of the event.

Suddenly, I feel Luke’s face look at me.

“What?”

“Do you realize what you were just doing?”

“What?” I repeat. I honestly have no idea what Luke is referring to.

Luke smirks and chews his lip. “You were just humming to yourself.”

“Oh,” I begin, “Yeah, Calum says I do that a lot. I’m sorry. I know it’s annoying. I don’t even realize I do it.”

Luke scrunches his face, like I said something wrong. “No, it’s not annoying, funny actually. What song was that? It sounded familiar.”

I tell Luke it was Feeling This by Blink 182.

“Ah, what a classic!”

I forgot Luke mentioned Blink 182 was his favorite band.

“If I only had headphones right now. It’s on this perfect playlist I made of really terrible, in the best way possible, love songs. It’s like, the worst playlist ever. You’re gonna listen to it one day. It’s an absolute mess.”

“Oh, I have headphones right now!” Luke says, reaching for his coat pocket. “I think they’re in this one… ah hah!” Of course, he pulls out white headphones  

Luke has no idea about the playlists I’ve made. One for every possible occasion or emotion or time of the day. It’s almost impossible for me not to have one for any opportunity. Kiss Me – love song playlist, Fuck Me – self-explanatory, Road Trip – also self-explanatory, Life Is Hard – for angst filled moods, I Rather Die – songs to listen to while doing homework, and the infamous Thursday I’m In Love. Not to mention my favorite, Drink Drank Drunk, for Calum and I’s pregame parties. These playlists are only a six of about thirty. I think I have an addiction.

I plug Luke’s headphones into my phone and click the Kiss Me playlist, scrolling all the way to Feeling This.

“On a scale of one to ten how cheesey would it be if we made out to this song right now?” I ask Luke, impersonating him and the constant questions he asks me.

“Oh, how the tables have turned my dear friend.”

Luke gently clutches my face, pulling me towards him. I’m lost blissfully in our kiss, completely consumed by Luke’s lips and tongue against my own. The stubble on his face has grown significantly, brushing on my skin.  We sit there mesmerized in the moment. The only thing stopping us is Luke beginning to talk about one of the songs that comes on, the headphones still in our ears.

“I love this song,” he comments in a whisper. 

“Mhm,” I say drawing him back to me. “Shut up, Luke,” I add under my breath, shaking my head.

After a while we stop completely and Luke falls back into me, leaning most of his body on my own. His head resting between my shoulder and chest. His hair brushing against my cheek, tickling the side of my face. We watch the lights outside flash before our eyes. The city disappearing, into a more subtle town, less lights, less noise, more small town aspects.

Within moments we’re at our stop, it’s almost midnight and Luke and I take our time walking back to campus, admiring the city that we currently live in. The strange town that we’ve spent the last 8 months living in. It’s almost like a hybrid between a city full with bright lights, and nightlife, and an everlasting, rapidly growing population, and the suburbs. I don’t know how to explain it any other way.

As soon as I know it, we’re in the front of my dorm, cautious of the next decision I need to make. Do I let Luke in? Do I really want to do that right now? Obviously, I know what I want.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then?” Luke says, breaking my concentration and leaning in for a kiss. Instead of a peck the kiss escalates to something more.

I guess I will be inviting Luke in tonight.

Luke practically has me pinned against my front door. If anyone were to walk by right now I’d be completely immersed in Luke’s kiss, his hands travel and sneak around my body. His fingertips gently brushing against my back, sending shivers up my spine, every hair standing straight. It’s as if Luke ignites every nerve, every sensation in me, the feeling of ice and ember flowing through my veins.

“Oh, fucking… Come on! I couldn’t have had better timing could I?” The voice belongs to Calum.

I feel Luke jump at the sudden sound rounding the corner behind him. He let’s go of me immediately and looks at Calum with a begging look. He looks like a puppy and I want to hit his shoulder for acting so dramatic.

Calum’s dressed in a large sweater, beanie, and the usual ripped black pants. He’s holding a to-go box from the twenty-four hour diner across the street. I can tell.

Luke and I both shrug. “Sorry, man.”

We move out of the way so Calum has the chance to get inside. “Get a room you two, really. Like get a room.”

Whatever.

I’ve walked in on Calum doing more. I know he’s kidding, but it’s the idea that he’s finally the one on the other side. He gets to tantalize and tease me now.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow? Come over at 8, sound good?” I ask.

Luke nods, “Yeah, yeah. Sounds great.” He begins to walk away, but I hear him jogging back as soon as I turn around to open the door. “Wait!” he screeches. Luke reaches for my face and pulls me into him, kissing me one last time. He breaks away, my face still clutched in his hands, his eyes searching for something in my own, for what I have no idea. “Goodnight, Michael.”

I don’t hear Luke run back again.


	9. Chapter 9

Calum’s voice wakes me up this time. Along with his dark grey and yellow patterned pillow hitting me in the face. Immediately I sit straight up, the pillow falling off me and onto the ground. My heart is racing and I feel like an animated cartoon that sees their heart pumping from their chest in a dramatic fashion.

“What the _fuck_?” I yell to Calum who is sitting dressed on his own bed in the adjacent corner. “ _What_? Why aren’t you _normal_?”

“It’s two in the afternoon Michael. _Two_ ,” he emphasizes. Sure enough when I check my phone it’s past two at this point.

“I slept for so long,” I say, flopping back on my pillow and pulling the sheets to cover my face. “And I don’t want to do _anything_.”

I don’t hear anything from Calum except him shuffling around in his bed. Curious about what he’s doing I peek outside my covers. Another pillow sailing towards my face. It plummets and smashes right on top of my head.

“You have such a great aim,” I retort, trying to throw the pillow back to Calum. Except I have terrible aim so it lands directly next to his bed.

Calum laughs. “Hey, no but really, I wanted to talk to you about tonight, just run something by you.”

“Uh huh,” I urge. Calum peeked my interest with his words. His use of rhetoric is very skillful and comes in handy when he wants something.

“So, I guess this party is getting out of hand already. People are finding out quickly, so I was thinking. Why don’t we get like, fucked up here and go to the party later if it isn’t shut down yet?”

“Who covers ‘we’, Cal?” I ask with a pressing tone.

Calum heaves a sigh and begins to count on his fingers. “Well, you, me, Ash for sure. Luke I’m assuming, Ashton’s girl, my two friends, Ash’s girl’s two friends and one of their boyfriends. That makes ten!” Calum says, holding all ten of his fingers, like he’s waiting for a high five, a huge grin on his face. He wiggles them around for emphasis.

“Sure, Cal. I’m fine with that. Did you get our booze yet?”

“You have a one track mind, Michael. But yeah, Riley is bringing it over… within an hour.”

That’s right. Riley is Calum’s big brother. Well, in their frat.

“I’m not drinking tonight though Cal. Like maybe I’ll do a shot with you guys, but I’m just gonna smoke myself out. Anyone’s welcome to join me,” I shrug, folding my sheets away from my bed and forcing myself out of my comfy cave made of sheets.

As I begin to make my bed there’s a loud distinct knock at the door. Calum leaps from his bed and bolts out of the room screaming, “Big brother!” at the top of his lungs. The door opens to a familiar voice exchanging a, “Hey!”

Whenever Calum and Riley are together they make a complete scene. They’re basically the same person and truly bring out the obnoxious side in one another. Most of the time they’re practically silent, reserved guys, really good representations of what a frat is supposed to be. Then there are the moments like this where their shrieks can be heard from miles away.

“ _Michael_ ,” Riley rings, “I come bearing alcohol for _you_!”

Riley is relatively short compared to Calum. He has bright blonde hair that he dyes – his roots are actually dark brown right now and bright blue eyes that always seem to glimmer. Right now he’s wearing a bright green soccer jersey with the Irish flag on the pocket. I distinctly remember now that Calum once told me most of Riley’s family lives in Ireland.

“Hey, Riley,” I say sheepishly as Riley begins to take off his backpack.

“I have presents for you guys,” he practically sings.

Riley unzips his huge backpack and two bottles peep from the top. He pulls out half a bottle of Captain Morgan and a bottle of coconut SKYY. Along with a case of Smirnoff Ice. Calum lunges for the case and cradles it in his hands.

“Oh, baby. It’s been _too_ long!” he coos.

Riley gives Calum a strange look. “Easy there, I don’t need you to become an alcoholic at nineteen. Anyway Cal, the Smirnoff is eight bucks and the SKYY is fourteen. I threw in the Captain as a gift so no need for that. Also, I have to say this since you idiots are throwing a party, if you need me for any reason don’t hesitate to call me. I’m just watching the game later but that should be over by the time you morons would probably need me. Let’s see… anything else?”

Calum and I exchange a look. “Nope, I don’t think so. Let me go get my wallet Riley.”

“Nah, Michael. I got this. Luke can just pay me back later,” Calum offers, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket.

“Oh, Luke!” Riley beams, his face lighting up completely. “I heard about him. Seems like a nice kid, good for you, Michael!”

The compliment makes me gag. Why is everyone congratulating me on Luke? We’re just hanging out, nothing else…

Humans, and their word choices, are strange.

“Oh, I almost forgot Taylor and Parker wanted to know what you’re doing tonight. You might wanna text them or call or something,” Riley mentions, speaking to Calum this time. Cal has a blank expression.

“Really?” Calum replies flatly.

“Really, really.” Calum’s face doesn’t budge which makes Riley say, “Come on, Cal! They fuckin’ love you and you won’t give them the time of day! What do you want me to say? That you think they’re annoying and should just fuck right off? I’m not gonna say that. They’re your brothers, they’re in your pledge class. Just hang out with them for a little bit. Bond or whatever.”

Calum folds his arms and pouts his face, chewing on his bottom lip, and clearly pondering what Riley is saying. “Okay, fine. I’ll invite them over tonight. You okay with that, Michael?”

I have no fucking clue who these people are and I don’t really care.

“Yeah, that’s cool,” I say, tugging on my long sleeve t-shirt. The sleeves bunching up in my palms.

“Alright, I’ll invite the twins, but you owe me, Riley.”

Riley returns Cal’s blank expression this time. “Are you kidding me? I don’t owe you shit, I bring you alcohol. Kiss my Irish ass, Cal,” Riley jokes. My jaw drops and make and “Oh!” sound for affect. I love it when people challenge Calum. It makes one hell of a scene.

Riley and Calum exchange a bromantic hug with one another before Riley takes off, leaving Calum and I with a table covered with bottles of booze.

“So, who are Taylor and Parker?” I ask, curious to see what the hassle is about and why I haven’t heard of them before.

Calum begins his talk with a massive eye roll. “Taylor and Parker are twins, in the frat, whose big brother is Riley’s best friend. Anyway, they’re irritating spoiled rich kids who desperately think they can buy friendships. For example, mine, but that simply cannot work since I hate their very existence. So, with that being said. I have to shut up tonight, hope dear God they don’t annoy the living shit out of me, and somehow enjoy myself with them in my presence.”

“Is there anyone in your frat that you actually like?” I scoff.

“Yeah! Riley of course – um…”

“He’s your big and an exact replica of you.”

“Okay, well… there’s Taylor and Parker’s big Jeff, he’s cool. There’s Dom and Adam and Josh Number One and Josh Number Two and…”

Once I realize that Calum is proving me wrong I begin to tune him out and walk to our bathroom to shower. It’s basically three and I need to get ready for the day.

Before I turn on the faucet I hear my phone begin to buzz, not once, not twice but multiple. Shocked that someone is calling me I rush into my bedroom. It’s Luke.

“Hey!” I say, perplexed that I’m receiving a call from him.  

“Sorry, I’m incredibly lazy and just didn’t text you. I’m coming over at 8 right?” he says, sounding as if he’s out of breath.

“Yeah, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine I just ran to a doctor’s appointment at the health clinic.”

I feel my eyes bulge. “Are you okay?” I repeat concerned.

“What? Oh, yeah I’m fine I just needed a refill on my allergy medication. Okay, I need to go now but I just wanted to call you, but also let me know when you go to the caf because I need to feed myself at some point today.”

“Okay,” I manage to laugh and hang up on Luke.

Quickly, I jump in the shower and let the water run over my head like a gentle waterfall. It’s calming, relaxing. A great feeling before dressing myself for the party tonight. Possibly the last one of the school year. Glancing down I see water blending from the new bright colors in my hair, a smoky purple puddle forms at the dip of the tub, slowly dripping down the drain.

Afterwards, and in the meantime, I decide to work on some music that I’ve been writing. It’s hard to pick up my notebook dedicated to lyrics knowing that Luke stole some glimpses of it. I feel like I’m reading someone else’s inner thoughts now, not my own and it’s difficult to look at the same cheesey one liners over and over again. Eventually, I begin to pluck some of the strings, the room filling up with acoustic ambience.

As I jot down some notes in my book, I hear Calum creep in our room and jump on his bed, his eyes burning in the back of my head. Without turning around I say, “What’s up, Cal?”

“Question, we should start a group chat with the guys.”

Turning around I declare, “That’s not a question, that’s a statement.”

Calum persuades me, like he always does, to make a group message with him, Ashton, Luke, and myself. I’m surprised that he invites Luke in this, but whatever. I think he’s just being supportive, but he allegedly had “quality bonding moments” at the party last week. He claims it will be easier if we all want to meet up for lunch or dinner.

Within minutes it’s clear that the text message group was a fucking terrible idea. My phone doesn’t leave my hand for an hour as it buzzes constantly in my grasp. Like Calum, I’ve moved from my desk to my bed. Calum and I probably look ridiculous sharing the same room and continually bursting out with laughter every time someone says something irrelevant or moronic. It’s rare that anyone is actually intentionally funny.

For example,

Ashton: _Aliens are insanely real. How do you explain Area 51? Huh?!_  
Luke: _You can’t believe everything you hear. Are you really that gullible?_  
Ashton: _Someone reviewed it on Google Reviews saying they saw multiple aliens. HOW DO YOU NOT BELIEVE THAT?_

I don’t even know how we reached the topic of aliens, but it doesn’t stop until we all decide to meet up at the cafeteria at six. Our whole time spent is arguing about other myths and legends and weird shit that anyone can really pull out from thin air.

I learn that if Ashton could be a mythical creature he’d be a werewolf, Luke would be Dracula not a vampire but specifically Dracula only, and Calum would be a dragon. Calum’s answer doesn’t surprise me.

As we begin to scarf down a combination of pasta and pizza our conversations cease, our mouths stuffed with food at the realization of how hungry we really were. The smells of garlic and cheese fill the whole cafeteria. It’s exactly what I imagine Italy to smell like. Well, the Italy I clearly fantasize about.

Calum and I say goodbye to everyone at seven and tell them to come by between eight and nine. Meanwhile, Calum and I are forced to clean our place up a little more and prepare ourselves for our company.

“Oh, did you want to invite anyone else? We’ve got like, ten people so far,” Calum suggests. The only people I can think of are Abby and maybe Sean. It’s kind of late notice, but it’s worth a try.

I send Abby a text message telling her when and where. Almost immediately I receive a response that she and Sean will be there. I’m interested to see their dynamic together, but I’m mostly excited to give Abby a hard time about fooling around with Sean.

Meanwhile, Calum and I break out our necessities for our little soiree, AKA unhooking one of our closet doors for a pong table, hanging out our temporary “House Rules” sign for said pong table, my iPod from to play the Drink, Drank, Drunk playlist and most importantly our booze from the mini fridge. I almost forget to grab the dick shaped shot glass for Luke to use.

Calum and I begin to practice shooting ping pongs for a few minutes until people begin to show up. With a few minutes to eight there is a light rasp at the door, a familiar knock. Looking through the peep hole I see Luke.

“Sorry, I’m early.” Luke wears a smile ear to ear. He has on another shirt that reveals his bare arms and black jeans with holes ripped at the knees. His blonde hair completely standing up on all ends.

“By like five minutes.”

“I needed to see you sooner,” Luke says leaning in, kissing me.

He tastes like cool mint.

“Oh, hey Calum!” Luke lights up when he sees Cal. They embrace for a hug. Calum still holds one of the ping pong balls in his hands.

“Come join us!” Calum insists  

The next to arrive are Sean and Abby, they bring a case of beer in a black Jansport, making the backpack into the shape of a box. Not suspicious at all. We set up a game almost immediately between Luke and Calum versus Abby and Sean. I see from the sidelines watching everyone go back and forth throwing their ping pong balls. The white ball flies from each end rapidly, whizzing by in the air. Abby and Sean are easily taking down Calum and Luke. I watch Calum repeatedly take sips from his Smirnoff Ice while Luke takes quarter shots of his coconut vodka. After his first shot, Luke yells, “Wow, that fucking tastes like sunscreen.” And I unravel in a fit of laughter.

Ashton is the next to walk through the door, dressed head to toe in black except for a white bandana enclosing his gold curls.

“Hey!” Ashton walks in brightening up the room completely. He’s welcomed with open arms. He takes a seat next to me and watches the rest of the game in front of us.

“When’s your girl coming?” I tease, whispering quietly. Ash rolls his eyes up to the ceiling and scoffs.

“I’m surprised she’s coming, man,” he replies, adjusting his bandana. “She should be here soon. I’m not sure if she’s coming with her friends first or what. I’m just happy she’s willing to see me again after… well, the _incident_.”

I throw my head back and let out a loud laugh. “Yeah, me too, but congrats, Ash. A girl finally liking you back,” I joke, nudging his shoulder.

“Yeah, well it’s about time!”

Violet is the next to walk through the door. She almost shadows me because of her height, it’s intimidating. Her once straight, blonde hair that was once to her stomach is now cut to her shoulders and curled. I take a double take, it looks like I completely different girl who had her arms wrapped around Ashton just a week ago. Her face is in the shape of a heart, hazel eyes to match Ash and perfectly tanned skin. I feel weird, because it looks like Ash in female form.

We’re finally introduced and she seems genuinely sweet and nice. Violet tells me she plays on the volleyball team, makes sense, and is declared psychology. While Violet and I talk back and forth, I notice Ash’s eyes, how they follow her every move, the smile that spreads across his face when she lets out a laugh, the captivating look he gives her. The boy is literally head over heels.

After the game of pong Luke takes a seat next to me. He smells like the definition of summer already, the coconut scent following him as he sits down.

“Hey, so I’m assuming you lost?”

“You assume correct. Only had a shot though. Cal took a few more sips for the team.”

The next game is Calum and Ashton versus Abby and Violet. However, the next two to walk through the door is Hannah and Lillian, Calum’s lady friends.

Immediately, I peg Hannah as the innocent type while Lillian is more of the go getter. However, when Calum sees them enter our place I’m proved wrong. Hannah bounces into Cal’s arms. Her bright red hair following. Lillian on the other hand introduces herself to us. She has a smoky, smoldering look to her, like she’s about to deceive everyone in the room. I quickly learn she’s insanely witty with her quips she adds to our conversations.

At nine, Violet opens the door next to two more girls who she practically throws herself at. Two additional extremely tall girls walk through the door; one with a bleached pixie haircut and the other with light brown hair that reaches her chest. Behind them walks a tall guy, I’m assuming one of their boyfriends. The blonde one introduces herself as Alex and the brunette is Zoe. The guy seems to cling behind Alex, apparently his name is Nate, but I can’t really hear over the sounds filling the room, a combination of music and voices drowns out his voice.

After Ashton is finished he walks over to Luke and asks if he wants to a shot with him and Violet. Luke nods.

“Make eye contact, guys or bad sex for a year!” Violet yells before everyone proceeds to down their clear liquid. Luke almost laughs so hard he spits it back up.

Everyone begins to rack up a new game between Luke and Zoe versus Alex and Maybe Nate. Zoe has a great aim and makes two cups right away. I don’t even bother watching the game, Luke and Zoe are totally going to win.

Suddenly there’s another knock on the door and I’m worried that we’re being too loud and this is us about to get written up for a party. I exchange a perplexed look with Calum. He returns the glance and then it hits him. It must be Taylor and Parker. When Calum answers the door he puts on a totally different persona. He’s all about hugs and fist bumps and “Shots, shots, shots!” I can see the pleading in Calum’s eyes, the miserable despair that these two frat boys bring him.

I know Riley and Calum explained they were frat twins, but they actually look like twins; brown hair quiffed to a point, brown eyes, dark bronzed skin. Although one is about three or four inches taller. They’re wearing button ups and chinos; basically not frat guys at all, but squeaky clean hipsters you’d see at a Starbucks and I’m shocked that they’re in the same frat as Cal. I see Luke take a shot with the guys right as they walk in and I can’t help but to laugh at how I’ve suddenly corrupted Luke with an introduction to alcohol. How did he go through almost two semesters without it?

The game between the last four ends quickly, with a significant win for Luke and Zoe. Luke comes by and sits on my lap. An “Ugh!” escapes my lips, not ready for his ass to fall down on my thighs.

“How you doing?” I ask, curiously. Luke has a wide smile plastered on his face.

“Great, really good,” he says. “Sorry, should I get up? Am I being annoying?”

I shake my head and laugh, looking up at him I ask, “How many have you had so far?”

“Five or six maybe? I lost count,” Luke giggles.

Luke’s laughing, but I tell him to take it easy. He doesn’t want to get so fucked up we’ll have to leave the party. I remind him that just because he drank once, he can’t take on a whole bottle of SKYY by himself. He nods as if he understands, but I know that expression, he’s a lightweight and he’s on his way to being wasted.

Everyone seems to be having a great time, including Calum who seems to be sincerely talking to Taylor and Parker. And the pong games are going so fast, usually they take a while, but I’ve lost track of how many there have been.  

At 9:45 I decide that I’m going to go smoke a bowl in my bathroom. I know I have just barely enough weed to take about five hits so even though no one chimes in that they want to join me I basically won’t get high at all. Before I retrieve my bowl from the back of my sock drawer, I close all the vents in my bathroom and once I do begin to smoke I cover the crevice under the door with a towel, allowing no smoke to leave the room.

Within minutes I suck as hard as I can from the bright pink piece, a present from an old friend, that touches the tip of my lips. I feel the smoke rise in my mouth as it settles in me leaving a burning sensation at the back of my throat. The smell begins to dull my senses ever so slightly. I stare in the mirror and notice my eyes are beginning to look greener, which usually happens. Once I’m done with my piece of the color that resembles a highlighter I douse myself with body spray to keep the stench away along with spraying my bathroom and leaving the fan on, making sure I cover all my tracks.

It’s perfect timing because it looks like everyone is well tanked and ready to go to the real party. Hard to believe that no one just wanted to stay here.

Luke walks, stumbling towards me, his cheeks pink and face bright. He bites his lip and asks if I want to take a shot with him before we leave. I shrug figuring that just one couldn’t hurt, might even turn my cheeks rosy to match Luke’s.

Luke and I quickly say cheers and throw back out heads, allowing the thick liquid seep down our throats. Once our shot glasses hit the table Luke lunges forward clutching my jaw in his hands, aggressively battling me for most passionate kiss.

Luke tastes like summertime.

Not quite like sunscreen.

“I’m sorry, I had too!” he says, giddy. His arms shoot into the air considering.

“No, no,” I reply, pulling him towards me this time. I don’t want to let the drunken idiot to leave my lips.

Apparently the party is in the middle section of the freshman dorms, between Luke’s and my place. It dawns on me that there is nothing more suspicious than a bunch of giggling college students on a campus at this hour. We’re traveling in a fucking _pack_.

I try not to let my paranoia get the best of me and take advantage of spending time with Mr. Shit Faced. At the moment, he’s bantering with Calum who seems to be in a good mood, surprisingly.

Basically Calum has two different personalities while intoxicated: “fuck _you_ ” or “ _fuck_ me.” Two distinct personalities that somehow Calum has begun to create. Currently he seems to be tapping into the more flirtatious one.

The bowl I smoked earlier seems to be at its peak. Everything seems to be moving in some kind of slow motion. Everyone’s laughs are almost drowned out as my thoughts are blurred together.

Somehow I end up on Luke’s back, as if we’re middle school children in prime days of friendship. My arms hook around his neck as he fumbles around with his feet. I honestly had no idea what I was thinking jumping on the back of a six foot four inch or so boy, the probable thought crossing my mind being, “Hey, clearly this is a good idea.” Looking back the statement might as well been, “You only live once.”

Luke doesn’t fall.

If it was the other way around, I would’ve probably landed on my face while Luke points and laughs saying, “Ha, Michael when are you going to quit falling for me?” or some stupid remark like that.

Luke wants to believe he’s so witty and original.

He is. It’s annoying.

By the time we arrive at the dorm, it’s probably like ten thirty and we walk right in to the crowded living space. The place is consumed of doubles so there are a total of six people living here. I’m shocked how large the living space is and the amount of people that are cramped into one dorm. Heads bob and weave through the crowd barely sliding through. Music blares through speakers, a song I recognize from my playlist from earlier.

Immediately, I’m separated from the bunch. Luke is nowhere to be found. I can’t help but to wonder if this is a coincidence.

I do however see Sean and Abby sneak off to a corner to make out and Ashton and Violet are in my view but I don’t want to interrupt their moment. Tugging on my hair I’m completely lost and can’t figure where I want my feet to lead me. And I’m beginning to feel a drowsy feeling consume me entirely, my high dissipating.

Figuring I’ll find someone eventually I take a seat on the couch right next to a bunch of stoners. How could I tell? They fucking _reek_. On top of that, they don’t even realize I’m there. They keep to themselves and their circle. I blend in quite well.

Suddenly I feel something smack against the back of my head and I’m so startled I don’t know how I really react. As I turn around I see Calum laughing in my peripheral vision. He takes a seat across from where I sit.

“Dude, what the hell you doin’? Calum slurs, still laughing. I’m surprised he is alone.

“I got lost again, man,” I grumble, glancing at the crowd of people filling the complex.

Calum shakes me head and props his arm on the sofa, supporting his head in his fist. “What are you doing, Michael? You need to go fucking enjoy yourself. Go find Luke. Make out with Luke. Go get laid. Take advantage of this night. You’re probably not going to have this chance for a while.”

Okay, so Calum’s choice of words are blunt to say the least, but I do consider them. I don’t think I’m really “taking advantage of this night” but I don’t think he’s entitled to say so. Although it is Calum. My point is that I should have the right to sit on this couch until someone finds me. God, I sound like a child.

To please Calum we get up from our seats and see Ashton and Violet playing two unfamiliar guys at a game of beer pong. Ashton and Violet are losing. It’s horrible to watch as they take one sip right after another. Violet is now wearing Ashton’s white bandana. His own hair is tousled and sticking to his forehead.

Looking around the room, Luke is nowhere to be seen.

The cups are racked again and a game between Ashton and Violet versus Calum and Zoe seems to be underway. I’m shocked to see Calum slip his arm around Zoe’s waist, laughing and smiling as he holds her close to his side. Guessing things didn’t work out with Hannah. After watching the little white ball soar back and forth for what seems like only five minutes Calum and Zoe win. As Calum yells and throws his hands in the air as the ping pong ball makes it into the last red cup, he yells, “Suck my dick, Irwin!” Classy Calum. He throws one arm around Zoe who looks towards him and reaches for a kiss. They end up making out, tuning everyone out that seems to be watching.

They’re a sloppy mess.

At this point my high his completely gone away and I feel wide awake, alive and part of the party once again. It’s comical to see every idiot in this room stumbling over themselves, slurring their words, laughing obnoxiously. Everyone in a drunken stupor.

Then my eyes finally land on Luke’s blonde hair bobbing towards me. Luke falls towards me. Wait, no. _Into_ me.

He dives into my left shoulder head first. Luke lifts his head, his eyes glossy and I feel as if he is not looking at me, but through me. And suddenly I’m scared.

I knew it. I knew that when I handed him the bottle of vodka that tonight was going to be different. I didn’t know how, but now I got my answer.

“Come on,” I say. “We’re getting you out of here.”

Luke doesn’t protest, he only flings his arms around me as I shuffle ourselves to the front door. I don’t see Calum and I don’t see Ashton when I turn back. The only thing in my peripheral vision now is the door and my path heading to Luke’s dorm.

“Michael, I don’t feel good,” Luke slurs, clutching his stomach.

“Okay, Luke,” I coo. “It’s alright. I’m gonna take you back to your place and we’re gonna hang out for a little bit. Does that sound good?”

Luke shakes his head to respond.

Since Luke obviously doesn’t feel good, I’ll just put him to sleep and watch over him until I think he’s passed out. He might black out completely, a sign of his body shutting down, which technically would be good. That’s obviously not the goal, but at this point I can’t tell how drunk he really is.

Once we leave the door Luke turns his head to the side where a garden is and vomits on ground.

 _Fuck_.

It’s going to be one of _those_ nights.

Luke tries to stead himself but ends up falling against the dorm wall.

Clearly, I can’t take Luke back to his place. I know he and his roommate are not the best of friends and I can always kick Cal out on the couch. But by the looks of things Cal might volunteer himself.

“Actually, we’re going to go back to my place,” I say and Luke clutches his sides, staring at the ground. “Come on, Luke.” I tug on his arm and throw it around my neck for me to support.

Since I’ve experience this before with Calum, I can only fucking hope that Luke doesn’t have alcohol poisoning. I don’t think he does, but I’m not ruling that out of the possibilities. Honestly, I think he just had a little too much to drink and since his body isn’t used to the fucking poison coursing through his veins, it’s going to reject whatever is left settled in his stomach.

We walk at a decently fast pace, me mostly dragging Luke along with me. Luke mutters and slurs sentences and words under his breath and I can barely understand a thing. I only respond with, Yeah’s and Uh, huh’s. Internally, I’m fucking freaking the hell out and I can’t let that show no matter what. Even though I don’t think Luke would pick up on it. My heart is racing, I’m actually scared for him. I’m terrified that there is even a possibility of alcohol poisoning, terrified that he may pass out from dehydration. I just don’t want him to get hurt. I can’t let Luke get hurt.

By the time I get into my house Luke is silent.

His eyes roll around, not focusing on anything until I grab his face once we walk through my door.  He begins to giggle when I tell him to look at my eyes.

“Your eyes are amazing,” he laughs, a little more clearly.

This isn’t the time to be hitting on me Luke.

“Okay, Luke,” I say, leading him into my room. “We’re gonna go to sleep now, because you can’t stand up by yourself and I think you took a few to many shots with Ash earlier.” Luke doesn’t put up a fight, unlike Calum, and lays in my bed. I take off his shoes and I roll him on his side that faces the door so I can watch him until he goes to sleep. Immediately after hitting my pillow Luke bolts up right, his hand flying to cover his mouth. I know _that_ look.

“Wait! Let me get you a garbage can!” I scream. I visualize Luke throwing up over himself and can’t bear it in my mind. Once I reach the bathroom to grab the garbage I hear the sounds once again indicating that Luke couldn’t hold it.

“Michael,” Luke chokes out. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Luke repeats, in a slurring voice, those words as I reevaluate what I need to do. He’s sitting up in my bed now, a mess covering him and the comforter.

“It’s okay,” I repeat to every one of Luke’s apologies.

“Luke come here,” I say pulling him off my bed. “Can you take off your pants and shirt? Leave your boxers.” Luke nods and begins ridding himself of reeking and stained clothes. Once he strips himself of them I throw them on my bed spread and wrap the bed spread like a burrito. Thinking on my toes, completely ignoring the seeping warmth from his vomit in my hands, I throw everything into the bathtub, the only possible place that I could think of. Calum might kill me, but I make a note to bleach everything once this mess is over.

When I come back from the bathroom Luke is standing against the wall, his eyes shut and he begins to slide down, incapable of keeping himself up.

“No, no, no, Luke. You’re sleepy, huh?” Luke nods, still decently coherent. “You’re gonna lay down in my bed, alright? And go to sleep and have really good dreams, okay?”

“Okay,” Luke accepts. “Michael, I’m so sorry.”

“I know.”

I’m starting to get sick of his words.

I wince at my own thought. I don’t mean that. I know he’s sorry, but it hurts me that he wants to apologize this much. He shouldn’t have too. This is more painful for him than it is for me. I’m lucky I can handle grotesque… situations, it doesn’t bother me at all. My stomach is lined with iron.

Luke leans over the bed once he’s under the sheets, reaching for the garbage that I left beside him. He hurls the rest of the remaining crap in his stomach for good.

For now I can only be thankful Luke is currently in my bed, not a stranger’s. That I’m the one looking over him, not someone else or worse, no one at all, because he’s a wreck.

Knowing damn well I’ll be staying up so that I don’t miss a thing, I decide to play Pokémon on my DS. It’s been awhile since I last picked it up and it’s covered in a layer of dust in the drawer, but it seems to ease my tension and nerves to an extreme. For a period of time my palms are not sweaty, my breath is steady, and my nervous system doesn’t feel like it’s about to collapse on itself.

I didn’t know Luke would be okay. In the back of my mind, things escalated to the worst possible outcome. Luke could’ve been in the ER tonight. Luke could’ve fallen and been knocked out. Luke could’ve passed out from vomiting too much. I’m thankful right now that he’s asleep, curled in my bed. Breathing heavily, his gasps of breath sounding as he sleeps. His whole body rises and falls to the rhythm of a pattern. And I’m so fucking relieved he’s okay.

And I’m fine staying up until the break of dawn, knowing he’s not a worst case scenario anymore.

And I don’t want to leave his side for one moment.

Because I can’t imagine right now if I was as intoxicated as he was. Something terrible could have happened. He doesn’t know better! This was his second night drinking and he clearly doesn’t know how to handle himself, no offense to Luke. He could’ve thrown up in his own bed and that… that could lead to him joking on his vomit.

The thought is so terrifying it makes me sick to my stomach.

So much for it being lined with iron.

“Luke,” I whisper and gently touch his hand that is creeping over the side of the bed. His other arm tucked underneath a pillow. His little snores filling up the room. _You’re so lucky,_ I think, unable to actually say it aloud.

I look the clock on my desk. It’s 2:30 in the morning and it’s been an hour since Luke puked in the bucket. It’s a good sign that the timing of him being sick is spacing out. I think Luke’s done for now so I walk to the pantry to grab three water bottles for Luke. I know when he wakes up he’s going to be extremely dehydrated and thirsty on top of that. He lost a lot of fluid and I can’t have him pass out from dehydration either.

When I sit on the floor once again, I hear the front door open. Calum’s home. He comes barging into the room right as I remove myself from the ground.

“What?” Calum begins but is unable to finish his sentence.

“Sorry, but long story short I thought Luke may have had alcohol poisoning, but it turns out it wasn’t as bad as I thought. He just got really sick and blacked and he puked on my bed and on himself and it was a complete fucking mess and now the comforter and his clothes are in the bathtub and I’m so sorry I probably fucking smells terrible and I was on the verge of a panic attack from trying to help him because I didn’t want him to be alone, Cal. Luke couldn’t be alone.” I’m almost tearing up at the thought of something terrible happening to Luke, not because he’s like the love of my life or something, but because I couldn’t let that happen to anyone.

“Oh,” Calum says, peering around me to see Luke passed out. “Well, okay then. Been there done that. I’ll be on the couch if you need me.”

Thank God for Calum.

“Thanks, Cal… You’re amazing.”

“Shut up, I’m not that drunk.”

Calum changes in to clothes to sleep in and grabs a blanket and pillow, heading for the comfy couch in the living room. I hear the TV turn on right when he exits our room.

Glancing at my clock again it says 3:18 and I’m kinda getting bored of my Pokémon at the moment. I can only take so much trying to build up their strength. I notice Luke has tossed and turned a little while he sleeps, he isn’t knocked out cold as much as I thought.

Almost two hours since he was last sick.

I stare at the three books on my bookshelf: _Lord of the Flies_ , _The Catcher in the Rye_ , and _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking Glass_. I’m not a huge reader. I think I’ll pick up a book for leisurely reading like once a year. But these on the other hand I’ve read again and again countless times. _The Catcher in the Rye_ being my all-time favorite. Who doesn’t love the humorous story of a rich white kid complaining about his life and then paying for a prostitute to listen to his invisible problems? The answer is: just as many people that hate him.

Picking up the book in my hands, I feel the scratched cover, the worn spine illustrating years of use and decide that reading would be the best way to occupy myself.

I don’t even know how long I’m planning to stay up. I have the option of sleeping in Calum’s bed since he’s on the couch, but I’m also not very tired. I think I’m still running on the adrenaline I had coursing through my veins not too long ago.

I place myself against my bed frame once again and begin reading my book. Getting lost in the narration of Holden Caulfield. Luke stirs every so often, while I focus on the book in my hands.

Page after page I see the words in front of me, but I don’t think I register them in my mind. I’m still worried about Luke. I know I probably helped him a lot; putting him to bed and leaving that party. I can’t help but imagine the worst case scenarios in my mind. My brain is saying “full fledge anxiety attack ahead” but I’m holding back those thoughts. Because Luke is asleep now, in my bed.

I want to erase the visual I have in my mind of Luke falling into my arms like he did, not lucid of anything in that moment. It terrified me so much. I’m losing focus again and force myself to put down my book. I can feel myself on the verge of an anxiety attack. Calmly, I push myself off the ground where I was laying, reading. Blood rushes from my toes to my head and I lean against the wall for support.

Come on, Michael.

Step by step I walk into the bathroom and turn on the faucet and splash myself with cool water. I can’t look myself in the mirror no longer than a second because I’m extremely pale more than usual, almost glowing. My eyes bloodshot and red around the edges like I haven’t slept in years. My hair is completely straight, and sticking to my head. Being in that dorm was disgusting. Too many people cramped in such a small place made me really begin to sweat. I feel disgusting and would kill for a shower.

I sit on the lid of the toilet and begin to count my breaths, slowing bringing down my heart rate.

Suddenly I hear my door open. Calum appears in the front of the bathroom.

“Oh, it’s you. Is everything okay?” Calum’s voice is concerned, his expression uneasy.

“Yeah, just… anxious I guess.”

Calum folds his arms and leans against the door frame. He looks at this ceiling, a Calum sign that suggests he’s about to say something nice and can’t look you in the eyes when he says it. “Listen, you did fine. You’re a good person, Michael. Luke would’ve been a fucking train wreck if you didn’t get him out of there when you did. Don’t be anxious about what could’ve happened.”

“Are you still drunk?” I ask.

“Eh, a little tipsy. Now can you get off the toilet so I can pee,” Calum urges, pushing me out of the bathroom.

What a totally heartfelt moment.

Calum, as usual, is completely right. I did the best I could. I brought him to a safe place, where someone could watch him so nothing disastrous could happen. There is still an anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach but I disregard the feeling. Instead I grab the bottle of Febreze underneath the bathroom sink and begin to spray the bathroom and bedroom. It reeks of vodka. Straight vodka.

As if someone ran around our room with a bottle of SKYY, dousing everything in sight.

I decide to quickly run to the nearest dumpster near the dorms to dispose of the deliciously covered comforter. There is no hope in saving the damn thing.

Once I’m back I pick up _The Catcher in the Rye_ again. Actually losing myself in Holden’s words. Completely immersed in the story, the tale, the whininess of Holden’s narration. It’s a book that, in time, I related to; someone who didn’t know what the fuck direction they were heading and once that was planned, could they – I – even make it?

Sure I had that idea of becoming the jingle writer in the back of my mind, but I never thought college was an option. Then I got my first acceptance letter. It was amazing knowing that someone, well some place, wanted me. Who doesn’t like to feel desired?

There are fifty pages left of my book when I glance up at the clock. Its 6:51 in the morning and the sun is up. I didn’t even notice. The birds outside begin to chirp their songs, the sun peeks through the blinds, and my eyelids finally begin to feel heavy.

I reach to my left and open one of the drawers underneath my bed that holds my linens and reach for a blanket, covering myself with immediate warmth.

It’s been more than five hours since Luke blacked out. Five and a half hours since he last threw up.

Clarity washes over me: Luke is fine.

The last thing I see before I fall asleep against my bed frame is the white walls in front of me.


	10. Chapter 10

My head rolls and makes me immediately wake up. Scrambling on the ground it takes me a moment to realize where I am. Then beg the question, why am I on the floor? Instead I crane my neck to see Luke sitting up in my bed, his hand clutching his face. He still doesn’t have a shirt on, or pants, just his boxers.

“Hi,” I croak. My voice is horse and raspy, forcing me to clear it.

“Hi,” Luke replies.

Luke looks like the definition of a true hangover. His eyes are bloodshot, making his blue irises light up even more and bags hang under them. His hair is tousled from a restless night’s sleep. Luke’s cheeks are flushed. If he looks like complete shit, I can’t imagine how he’s feeling.

“What time is it?” I ask

“It’s one in the afternoon,” Luke says, rolling his tongue around his mouth. “Um, before I ask what happened last night, can I ask you another question?” I nod. “Can I barrow a shirt?”

Laughing, I say, “Yeah, sure.” From one of my trundle drawers I pull out a vintage Spiderman shirt and throw it at Luke. He scoffs and pulls it over his head. I jump to the foot of my bed and roll around my neck, sleeping upright clearly can’t be good for my neck, or back, or body for that matter. I pinch a few pressure points that relieve a little tension. “So… last night,” I begin. “Well, what do you remember?”

“I just remember leaving the party and well, barfing in those flowers and almost falling over.”

“Luke, you did fall over.”

“Oh, well then…”

I tell Luke that after that I decided that I need to take him back to my place so I could watch him. I felt weird if I left him when his roommate was there so I took the chance going to my place. It’s hard to tell Luke that he vomited over my comforter and had to throw it away. There was no way I could clean it. His face contorts to disgust and he throws his hands over his face, his cheeks burn red from embarrassment. His reaction is slightly better when I say the third time he heaved up the rest of the alcohol in his system he actually made it into the garbage can. Luke’s expression reveals he’s in disbelief about his actions. That, he out of everyone, was belligerent and intolerant.

Luke apologizes for the fiftieth time.

“I know, trust me. You said it all last night, it’s okay. I’m happy you’re just fine. I was scared don’t get me wrong, but I knew if I waded out the time of you not getting sick then I wouldn’t worry about you, well, choking or passing out. I don’t know, I just couldn’t leave you like that, Luke.”

And that’s when reality really hits Luke, his expression divulges it all. Like that, the last few hours begin to sink in at the severity of his state. At the same time, he doesn’t grasp that everything is fine now. He’s here, alive and well.

“Hey,” I say, grabbing his knee. “Don’t freak out. You’re good, you’re golden, you’re fine. Let’s just stay in bed all day and watch movies okay? I’m sure you feel like fucking shit.”

Luke’s eyes grow wide. “Hell yeah I do. Fuck, I feel like I got rid of half my body weight yet I feel heavy like I’m the size of Godzilla.”

Luke is nowhere the size of an oceanic dinosaur.

“Okay,” I wince and mimic the idiotic face I made the day before yesterday, which makes Luke crack a smile and muffle a laugh. I grab one of the water bottles closest to me. “I’m glad you’re good now, but drink this. You’re probably really dehydrated after all that… happening.”

He immediately snatches the water bottle from my clutch, turns the cap and begins to chug. Three quarters of the water bottle is gone in seconds. When Luke turns to me I see water dripping from the curve of his lip to his chin. His lips are dry, chapped and pale.

“Michael, I really do owe you my life. I don’t know what happened last night and frankly that terrifies me more than anything. This really has been a learning experience and I’m so sorry that you had to endure everything you did. I sound like an absolute fucking nightmare and I’m amazed you’re not shooing me out the front door saying, ‘Sayonara!’” Luke exclaims. I have to hold myself back to not roll my eyes. I’m sick of the banter, I know I helped him, and I’m tired of hearing sorry.

“Okay, you’re gonna shut up right now and were going to aggressively cuddle,” I shout pointing my finger directly at Luke’s blank face.

I flop on my bed, still clothed in last night’s attire, and patiently wait for Luke’s move. Slowly, but surely, he winds down, his stomach touching my back. I can physically feel the amount of breaths he takes, his exhales tickling my ear. Luke’s arm creeps around my own and I feel his fingers begin to tap on my shoulder.

Silence begins to drift over us and I suddenly feel sleepy. It would amazing if this could happen every single day. It makes want to kick timing that we met only a week and a half ago. Why couldn’t we meet sooner?

Suddenly, Luke’s breathing becomes almost irregular and it makes me almost turn to him, but he addresses the problem even before I can say anything.

“Michael,” he chokes out, “Fuck, I just… I don’t know. I still have this uneasy feeling about everything. I feel really shitty.”

“Yeah, you’re going to feel shitty, I hate to break it to you. You had too much. You just had too much Luke,” I try to console, but that doesn’t stop the huge breath I hear Luke intake. “Luke?” I hear nothing, but I feel Luke’s heartbeat against my back at a rapid pace. “Luke?” I say again, this time turning around to see Luke with his eyes closed tightly. His arms lay where I was entwined with him.

Fuck, something is telling me I said the wrong thing.

“Wait,” I begin stammering, wishing I could go back in time. “Wait, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. Listen, okay…” But I have nothing to say.

Luke opens his eyes but doesn’t look at me. Instead he glances towards the blank wall. His head still resting on my pillow. He’s still, not a sound comes out of him as I see tears rolling from his bloodshot eyes.

I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to do. My whole body is in a stunnd. Any amount of human emotion is not my forte.

Then Luke looks at me. His lips are quivering, holding his composure, not letting the rest of his tears flow. He’s completely holding everything back.

“I am so sorry,” he says before shutting his eyes again and covering his face with his hands.

Those four words echo through my ears and begin to chip off fragments of my heart, piece by piece, because Luke has no need to be sorry. I understand that last night was beyond terrifying, a nightmare. That the feelings rushing inside him are a range from, “Oh, shit. I could’ve died,” which is certainly true if I didn’t help him I’m sure, to, “Holy fuck, thank God I’m okay.”

Luke doesn’t owe me an apology. Luke owes me absolutely nothing.

“Luke,” I say quietly.

He lifts his eyes from his palms and glances to me. Luke’s face is completely red from crying. I didn’t even realize tears were actually flowing. He was so silent.

“Luke,” I begin again. “I’m just happy you’re alive.”

And that’s all it takes for Luke to shove his hands back into his face to continue silently sobbing.

“Okay, I’m gonna let you do your thing because clearly I have no fucking clue what to say, but I’m gonna say something anyway and hope you listen to me. Luke, you’re alive. I could not be happier that you’re breathing right now. You can’t worry about what happened last night. It happens to a lot of people.”

“But that was so out of control. I’ve never done that before. I can’t believe I threw up on your comforter. I can’t believe I threw up all that shit. I can’t believe _you_ stayed up all night to watch _me_. _You_ slept on the floor, Michael!” Luke’s voice his horse and it’s shaking, but he’s shouting by the time he finishes his monologue. He begins to shake his head. “You don’t deserve this.”

Immediately, I scoff. “Luke, you’re being a little dramatic with your words don’t you think?” I can’t help but to laugh now. I would never imagine Luke to crumble into the state he’s currently in, but at the same time I understand his reaction completely. “I like you, Luke. Nothing about last night changed that. I’m so happy that you’re here, and well, and your heart is beating and I can spend the whole day with you in my bed. Last night was terrifying for me I admit that, but I don’t regret it, because right now you’re here and Luke… I like you. Don’t even question it.”

Luke doesn’t say anything but does, however, sit up in my bed. We’re facing each other, with our legs crossed and arms in our laps. Luke still in my oversized Spiderman shirt on and in his boxers. I feel my eyes travel around his body. Where the clothing hugs him tight in suggestive areas, but I quickly glance over them as if that wasn’t my intention at all.

I have a one track mind, but it’s a mess and under further construction.

“So, I am sorry for what you went through. I can only imagine how _fucking terrified_ you were.”

Luke still hasn’t said a word and he’s never speechless and I’m running out of things to say.

“I guess I shouldn’t be saying sorry and should be thanking you. For everything, Michael. I really don’t want to imagine where I’d be, who I’d be with, if it weren’t for you. I just… I just, I want to say I’m sorry, I do, but the look you gave me earlier after I said it the first time was just a look of disgust and pure pity and I don’t want you to see me that way. So thank you, thank you so much,” Luke beams. His face brightening. I see him convincing himself of believing in his own words, truly understanding there is no need for apologies. Just some kind of appreciation. Luke looks towards the sheets on my bed, picking the lint off the sheets. A smile crosses his face, pointing towards his left cheek. “I’m thankful for you, Michael Clifford,” he says pursing his lips and looking directly at me.

My stomach turns into several knots as his words settle and sink in.

“And I’m glad that you’re in my bed Luke Hemmings,” I chuckle. I reach for his hand that is closest to me. His fingers lace with mine, his palm clammy. “Now drink more water please and a lot of it,” I scold, almost mockingly.

This isn’t my first rodeo. I don’t want to say it to Luke, but Calum’s had worse. Way worse. So much worse that he’s gone to the hospital, not just once, but twice and within weeks of each other.

The first time we took a cab to the hospital because:

  1.        It was cheaper than anything else.
  2.        I didn’t know anyone with a car.
  3.        I had no fucking clue what the fuck was going on.



The second time I wasn’t with Calum, I just babysat him after he got back from the hospital. Riley took him that time. I don’t know the details about it, but it’s none of my business. Calum is going to do what he wants, nothing will stop him.

But I don’t want to make Luke feel like his thoughts aren’t valid. They completely are. He’s trembling and I don’t want to make him feel shittier than he already does.

Luke ends up drinking three glasses of water in an hour and eats two of my granola bars. He says he’s satisfied with that for now and I agree. I don’t want him to load up on any heavy foods right now. His stomach is probably still queasy.

We decide to watch _The Amazing Spiderman_ again on my laptop. I set up my computer at the edge of my desk that faces my bed. Most of the time we actually watch the movie, but there are moments that are interrupted by Luke’s insane bladder.

“Sorry, I have to pee,” Luke says for the third time.

“You don’t have to tell me every time.”

“I know,” Luke winces, tugging on his boxers as he rounds the corner to the bathroom. “I just feel bad having to release you from my grasp and having to shift around and just… I don’t know. Don’t listen to me, I guess.”

“You’re an idiot,” I say and immediately regret it. Luke’s already in the bathroom when I say it and I can only hope he didn’t hear me.

When he opens the door I blurt, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it.”

“Mean what?”

“I called you an idiot. You don’t need to hear that. Especially from right now.”

“Shut up, Michael and play your movie.”

By the time the credits are rolling I see the weary look on Luke’s face. His drooping eyelids and blood shot eyes. His cheeks are pink as if he’s wearing makeup.

“Luke, do you want to go to sleep?” I ask.

“No, I’m fine. It’s like four o’clock.”

I shake my head, “At least take a nap, Luke. You look miserable.”

He nods his head. “I kind of am. I mean no offense to you. I just feel like shit.”

“Well, go to sleep. I’ll work on some homework and I’ll wake you up in an hour so you don’t sleep so late.”

“What? You’re not gonna be next to me?” Luke winks and I feel my own cheeks flush. When will _that_ stop?

Instead of protesting, I climb back over my bed and curl up into a ball next to him. His left arm wraps around my body while his right is submerged underneath a pillow. I feel the breaths that Luke takes, the rise and fall of his chest echoes against my back.

Luke may be on the edge of a deep sleep, but every nerve in me is awake. Right when I know he’s out cold, I pick up his arm and gently place it at his side.

Whoever glorified the ideal picture of their lover, partner, or significant other sleeping sound, peacefully, and romantically, they must have been blind, because no one sleeps like that. No one. And Luke is no exception as his mouth is open and his arm that is now under his cheek is covered with a flowing river of drool. Slight snoring noises begin to escape his mouth.

And somehow _I’m_ the mess.

Tomorrow I have psych and I need to desperately study for my final test. I already had a solid hour of memorizing the material and that’s probably enough, but there is no harm in refreshing the notes.

As my eyes fly by the words on my note pages, I can barely concentrate. To make me focus I begin to write flashcards that could help me remember the key terms and definitions, which also occupies time.

Then I hear a knock on the door interrupting my concentration.

“Hey,” I hear Calum whispers as he steps in. “How are things?” he asks when he sees me at my desk.

I look over at Luke passed out on my bed. “He’s fine. Fucking scared out of his mind, but he’s okay. It was a learning experience,” I say.

Cal scoffs but nods his head. “Yeah, I get that completely. At least I think he’s smart enough to learn from the first time. I on the other hand learned from Mr. Fireball and Mrs. Pear Smirnoff. As if pear vodka sounds like a good thing to drink…” Calum rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I’m glad to hear. Is he staying?”

I shake my head no.

“He should. Let him stay. He probably needs you, dude,” Calum suggests. The gesture is so sweet I feel my cheeks begin to sting.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, don’t go fuck each other because I’ll move my mattress into the other room and I swear the last thing I need to hear is you to hooking up in our room,” Calum threatens.

I sigh. “Cal, we’re not hooking up, don’t worry.”

“First off, you two are sharing a bed tonight, do the math, and secondly, realize who you’re talking to. Just let me know when he wakes up so I can grab my things and what not, because I’m sure you two will want your alone time,” Calum begins to laugh. “If you don’t hook up tonight I doubt you ever will.”

“Calum, are you sure? Like, this is your room too…” I disregard his condescending comments and plead for him to stay. I truly feel awful if Calum moved his bed because of me.

“Michael, shut up. I’ve kicked you out plenty of times. I owe you and anyway… Luke is different. He’s one of us,” Calum says, in his “I’m Calum and I’m far more intelligent and mystifying than you are so go ahead and try, but I’ll use bigger words that you don’t know the definitions to,” even though he doesn’t use any words that I don’t already know…

“Thanks, Calum,” I say before he heads back out the door.

I study for an hour before I wake Luke up at five. I’m so sick of studying for this God forsaken test. At this point I’m guaranteed an A. If anyone we’re to ask me what the definition of an addiction was I could probably write a five page essay, color code it, and recite the thing word for word.

To wake Luke up I decide not to attempt that Calum approach, AKA throwing pillows to wake up said Sleeping Beauty. Instead I give him a few nudges. At first he doesn’t budge, but suddenly his eyes fly open and look directly into mine. Luke lets out a groan and squints.

“No,” he whines. “I thought waking up to your face would be a lot nicer.”

“Okay, great to see you too.” Luke you suck so badly. “Listen Cal said he’s going to sleep in the living room tonight and you’re allowed to stay if you want.”

This perks Luke up, he rolls over on his side. His arm props his head against his fist. He wiggles eyebrows suggestively. “Oh, I’m allowed,” he purrs. He sticks out his tongue out for good measure.

I shake my head and put my hand on Luke’s face, smashing him back into my pillow.

“Hey, I’m fragile!” I can barely say anything to that.

Then there’s a knock on my bedroom door and Calum follows.

“Hey, what’s up Luke?” Calum nods. “Do you guys want some food? I’ll go get us sandwiches from across the street.”

Luke says he still doesn’t feel up to eating, while I on the other hand am completely famished and could probably easily eat two. I tell Calum to surprise me with my order and additionally ask for a Mountain Dew. Calum claims he already knew I was going to ask.

Once Calum leaves Luke says, “It’s okay. I’m an adult I can just go back to my place.”

“Really? _Really_? You were begging me to sleep in your arms like an hour ago and now you’re denying my invitation?” I point out.

“Fine, Michael,” Luke smirks. “Thank you. I’ll tell Calum thank you too… God, I feel like such a burden.”

I want to disregard Luke’s comment, but somehow I find myself addressing it.

“You’re not.”

Our conversation runs flat after that.

In the meantime, Luke is desperate for a shower and a toothepaste. I don’t blame him. I have to let him borrow a pair of my pants because me “thinking on my toes” last night threw them out with the comforter. He’s gone for almost twenty minutes and walks in with completely damp hair.

As we wait for Calum to come back with my sandwiches, we decide to watch _The Hunger Games_. Apparently, if Luke and I aren’t partying together we’re watching a movie. It’s tough being a broke college student without a car. Luke claims he’s read the books and really enjoys the series, while I’m the “I’ll wait for the movie to come out on DVD” kind of person.

Also, I found how incredibly difficult it is to share my bed with someone, but after elbowing each other, and almost pushing each other off, we seem to fit, like puzzle pieces. Basically a miracle.

I feel Luke’s eyes burning into the side of my cheek.

“What?” I ask.

“Michael, do you think I could be Katniss?” Luke inquires, his face serious and brows furrowed.

“Like… metaphorically?”

“No, exactly Katniss as a person,” Luke states.

“No way, you’d cry the whole time in the arena.”

Luke’s face becomes a blank slate and in one motion begins to tickle me once again. I feel like a squealing child and I want it to stop. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.

“Luke!” I yell between fits of giggles. “I swear to God!” My words are hidden under mumbles and lost between laughs. Luke even pretends to stop and continues to brush his fingertips around my body. I’m miserable, but I guess I can put up with it. “Truce!” I shout, trying to catch my breath. Once he doesn’t stop I quickly add, “Fine, fine! You can be Katniss, you cry _baby_!”

Luke sits back on his legs, clearly triumphant for finding a fucking weakness I have. I want to punch that smug look further into his face.

At that moment Calum walks through the door with a bag of sandwiches all for me. As if on cue my stomach howls with hunger. We confine ourselves to my room. Hiding away from the rest of the world in the comfort of my bed. By some miracle we maneuver ourselves to fit once again. I lose count how many times Luke’s broad shoulders stab my chest.

Continuing with our pathetic movie marathon we have, our next choice is the classic _Fight Club_. Luke whispers a few one of the one liners under his breath as if I wouldn’t notice. There’s so many things I have yet to learn about Luke Hemmings. I can’t wait.

After our movie I tell Luke I need to study a little bit before bed. He offers to help and I consider this, if I say no he’ll probably distract me, but if I say yes I probably won’t focus at all either. Luke seems enthusiastic to help so I allow it. Shuffling the notecards in his hands he begins reciting the terms stated on the front, completely serious. I’ve never seen Luke so studious. It’s really sickening.

It’s nine thirty when Calum comes in our room and attempts to lift his mattress from his bed frame.

“Cal, what are you doing? I’ll just go home. Don’t even worry,” Luke offers and my heart sinks thinking we’re not going to get the sleepover that I was looking oh-so forward to.

“No!” Calum interjects. “No, it’s totally cool. I owe Michael anyway.”

“No, this is stupid to argue about,” I add.

“Michael, you know me better than anyone. I’m a decisive and stubborn guy and once I have something in mind I’m going to do that said thing,”

“Or someone,” I mutter, not thinking he would hear me. I was wrong. In one swift motion one of Calum’s patterned pillows sails towards me face once again. 

Calum points a finger at me and says, “Michael, you’re lucky I like Luke” pointing towards Luke he adds, “and Luke I’d love to have you as a replacement for my new roommate.” With a heave against his mattress Calum is able to lift it all by himself. He even denies my help when I offer.

Once Calum lays his mattress in the living room he charges back in announcing he’s going to take a shower.

“Is Calum mad at you?” Luke asks quizzically.

I shake my head. “Nah, he’s just persistent and headstrong. He gets what he wants.”

Jumping from my bed, I grab a shirt from my trundle drawer. Rolling down my pant legs I hear Luke whistle from the bed. I look over and see he’s rolled on his side, lifting one eyebrow has he sizes up my body. I feel every inch of me glow bright red and I have to turn around again, changing my shirt and keeping my boxers.

As I walk towards Luke, he sits up, grabbing my wrist and pulling me into his lap. My fingers crawl from his chest, his warm body pressed against my hand, up to his throat and to his jaw. The stubble that lines the crease of his chin is rough in my hands. My thumb brushes against his cheek, and I feel Luke smile. A dimple appearing where my thumb rests.

“You know,” Luke says, “You should probably go to sleep Michael. You have a final tomorrow.” His voice is low but jeering. He grins, thinking he’s being his clever self.

My face scrunches. “Fine,” I seethe.

And just like that, we fall under my sheets. The warmth of Luke’s body radiating next to mine. His breaths humming in my ear.

The last time I look at the clock on the edge of my desk it reads 10:30 P.M.

And Luke Hemmings is still in my bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I apologize for these last two chapters were a doozy. Also, I got a job so I’ll be working, hopefully I will be able to still update every Friday. Also also, and as always, thank you for reading! I don’t think I say that enough.


	11. Chapter 11

My alarm stirs me awake.

But I open my eyes to see Luke’s blue irises staring back at mine. Nothing is said between us, we just let the alarming phone buzz on the window sill. It looks like Luke may have been awake for a while.

“Good morning,” I yawn, reaching behind me for my phone while keeping my eyes locked on Luke.

“Hi,” he says, his voice groggy.

He shuffles out of my bed. His warm body leaving makes me immediately feel icy. He wears his boxers and a shirt that hangs loosely around his body and his hair sticks to his forehead. It’s strange seeing not every strand stand up completely. Luke pulls on a pair of jeans and walks to the bathroom before I can and I’m the one that needs to leave for class in a few minutes.

While Luke takes his time in the bathroom, preparing himself for the Monday ahead after an interesting weekend, I slip into my own clothes. I can imagine him tactfully applying his war paint as he gazes himself in the mirror. He walks out a few minutes later with his shirt off and I can’t help but stare at his bare chest in front of me. I desperately want to get him back for the times he took advantage of learning that I’m ticklish.

Instead I’m caught off guard, tugging on my hair and not meeting his eyes.

“ _Michael_ ,” Luke sings, “What’s wrong?” His voice teases and I look back to meet his eyes, a smirk on his face as he forces me to brush by him to reach my bathroom.

“Shut up, Luke,” I say as I slam my bathroom door. The last thing I see of Luke is him reaching for a shirt in the backpack he brought over and biting on his tongue as if this is all a joke.

After I’m done brushing my teeth I open the door and see Luke patiently waiting for me on my bed, his long legs can’t even dangle off the edge. His feet are completely planted on the ground. I grab my backpack and head toward the front door.

“Do you have class today?” I ask out of curiosity. I’m surprised I wouldn’t have a general idea.

“Technically yes. I had one this morning at eight but obviously I didn’t go.”

“Luke Hemmings, rebelling against the real college experience. I like it.”

Luke rolls his eyes, but pulls me close. I can feel his hands rest on my back beneath my white Jansport.

“How could I possibly leave that early for an eight AM class when your ass was next to me? When I was sleeping in _your_ bed? How could I possibly resist _you,_ Michael Clifford?”

I feel breath hitch in my throat as my eyes meet Luke’s. He pulls my chin closer. I’m forced to embrace the fact that I’m never going to get used to the feeling of Luke’s lips touching my own. I feel my face turn pink in response.

Luke tastes like mint.

Our favorite game lately has been playing tonsil hockey and I have to say, I’m becoming a fan.

“I need to go,” I say breaking apart and pushing my forehead to Luke’s shoulder. “I don’t want to. I’m _scared_ ,” I whine.

Luke grabs my shoulders pushing me backwards. “You’re going to do fine. Really, really fine.”

I nod approvingly. I know he’s right, testing anxiety is kicking in.

Luke tells me that he has another class soon so he needs to go back home anyway. Parting ways is hard, especially when considering the last two days were a fucking rollercoaster. It would be too easy to slip back into bed with Luke, spend the whole day making out and lying right there, but this godforsaken psychology test is about to become my bitch.

With my headphones in my ears and my calming playlist playing, I feel tranquil and ready right when I walk through the double doors of my psychology class. Although the room usually looks like a small arena I’m not nervous like I usually am. I take my seat and make a little small talk with Teddy, B’s TA, while we wait for B to arrive.

Teddy says he wants another rematch in pong.

I say I’ll talk to my partner about that one.

When B arrive she’s her typical sunshine and beaming rays of light. She welcomes everyone warming on our second to last day of class. She gives a little speech about how it’s been a great semester and we’re a fabulous group of kids and it’s going to be hard to see our personality as a class go. Internally, I’m begging B to move on with the fucking story time and just give me my damn test so I can walk back to my place and make out with my extremely attractive… Luke. 

Eventually B passes the tests out. A simple, semi-lengthy packet filled with multiple choice questions. Black ink on white. The sight of this test is daunting and plain dreadful. My palms begin to sweat as I pick up the brand new, yellow pencil almost sliding off my desk. Immediately I begin to shuffle through the test. One page after the other. I’m bubbling in answers quickly. Most of them are easy, but every so often I find myself debating between a few of the options, leaving me stumped. I take a few guesses and move on to the next one.

A girl that sits in the back walks up to the front of the class after ten minutes.

 _Ten_.

Did she even read a damn word?

Like one question at all?

I shake off the movement going on in the front of the class. I feel so uneasy knowing that this girl with bleached bobbed hair is finished with her test.

 _Focus, Michael_.

Concentrating on the white papers in front of me I gain some control of my mind. Forcing myself to read each word carefully and pay closer attention to my breathing patterns. Thank God no one is sitting next to me because I feel like a raging bull with my nostrils flaring and chest rising and falling.

Bubbling in question 73 is my indicator that I’m done with the final.

Once I hand it back to B her grin spreads across her face. Whispering she says, “You actually studied, Michael? I shouldn’t be surprised should I?”

I shake my head and tell B to have a nice weekend and see her next week. She tells me that she expects a good extra credit assignment come next Monday.

“Professor B, you can’t expect so much of me. I can’t possibly reach your standards,” I say. B slaps the table, giggling, as if I said the funniest thing she ever heard. If B thinks I’m a riot when I have my PG attitude she should see my finer work, with my top notch sense of humor and ability to satirize and mock anyone in my path.  

Once I walk outside the double doors of the auditorium the sun hits my face, shining brightly and almost blinding.

My first final of the second semester is now complete. Done. I never have to take Psychology 201 ever again. Next time I see B she’ll be paying me to do all her stupid dirty work.

My immediate action is to check my phone. It’s almost noon and I have a message from Ashton asking to meet at the caf at 12. I respond that I’m on my way now.

It dawns on me that I will no longer be walking through the double doors of the cafeteria for three months. I’ve had some really great times coming to this terrible eatery. The first time I smoked with Calum he sat at the soda machine refilling his water cup one right after another. He claimed he wasn’t high but had cotton mouth that never ended. It’s also the place where I first met Ashton.

I open the heavy glass door to reveal Ashton waiting for me on the other side. He leans against the opposite wall, his hands folded. He doesn’t wear a bandana, but does however have a signature Joy Division shirt – the kind with the sleeves ripped – and tight black pants. His essential boots are laced up completely.

“Aren’t you dying wearing that?” I say greeting him.

“Dude, you’re wearing like, the exact same thing!” he points out. Ashton’s right. Minus the boots we’re basically twins.

After grabbing food we settle into our usual booth near the door. Ashton has salad and a glass of water in front of him while I have a plate of pizza and Mountain Dew.

After scarfing down my first piece I ask Ashton about his evening with Violet Saturday night, since I wasn’t able to see how the night unraveled for everyone else.

Immediately after asking the question Ashton smashes his face into his palm and groans.

“I wish you didn’t ask, man,” he says shaking his head. I can’t help but to laugh at Ashton’s luck. If luck actually exists in the world I’m sure Ash would be in the negative percentages right now. He lifts his head up. Ashton’s face is flushed pink. “So everything was just going great, okay? We were having a great time playing pong and talking and just hanging out, but then…” Ashton closes his eyes and lowers his head. “Then, somehow we ended up in the bathroom totally making out and then next thing I know my pants are on the ground… and I look down to the worst case of whiskey dick I’ve ever seen in my life.”

At this point I’m almost crying from laughter. Tears are pooling at the corner of my eyes, begging to fall down my cheeks.

“It’s not funny! And I’m only telling you this in secret alright? It just adds to the humiliation from before. My life is so impossible, I can’t believe it anymore.” Ashton has his head propped on his fist, continually shaking. “It’s unbelievable.”

“Oh my God, that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard from you, Ash. You must become a writer and spread your wonderful stories to the world. Everyone would appreciate it.”

Ashton shoots me a glare. “That’s not even remotely funny.”

I shrug. “Then what?”

“I mean I kept apologizing saying it wasn’t her, it wasn’t her. I just didn’t have the capacity at the moment. She wasn’t as plastered either so that makes me even feel like more shit.” At this point Ashton is tugging on his golden curls.

“Well, has she talked to you since?”

“Yeah, well not in person. We’ve been texting and – ”

“Then why are you freaking out you moron? You’re fucking fine. Ashton, clearly this girl likes you if she keeps hanging around. So quit your fucking worrying. You’re worse than me, man.”

Ashton rolls his eyes and tells me that I should just become a motivational speaker due to my clearly advised words that are so easy to be inspired by.

By the time we exit the cafeteria its 12:30 and Ash asks if there’s any place I need to be. I shrug, replying no. He invites me over for video games, an invitation that I simply cannot reject.

When we get to Ashton’s we settle into the futon that Ashton and his roommate bought. It sounds weird but they bought probably the comfiest futon in the entire world. When I fall back on the cushions I feel as if I could fall asleep. It’s like I sink to the depths of the stuffing.

Ashton hands me a control and we play some game I haven’t played yet. All he tells me is that I need to shoot zombies and not die. Although it sounds like easy instructions to follow I die within seconds. My characters body lies helplessly on the floor as I’m mauled by the most grotesque zombies. The body of the character is gone within seconds.

I patiently wait for Ashton to finish the level so my character can be revived. I glance at my phone and exchange a few messages with Luke. It isn’t long until Ashton is on the next stage.

Suddenly the door flies open with Ashton’s roommate walking through the door, Nick.

Here’s the thing about Nick: Ashton and him are twins and scientifically speaking, that’s a fact. The differences are subtle I guess, but are barely visible. For one, Nick doesn’t drink. I mean, not really. He actually hates parties and I can respect that. Although the first time we had an adventure together we got stoned. Nick also hates soccer, but on occasion will support his roommate at a game. Clearly not to the same extent as me, but he shows up. Nick doesn’t necessarily wear tie dye and brotanks every day either, but his clothing choices are just as questionable as Ashton’s.

Nick’s long, brown curls flowing at his shoulders bounce as he enters the room and a green bandana is wrapped around his head, another attribute they share. His dimples deepen as he notices me sitting on the couch next to Ashton, breaking in a smile.

“Dude!” he yells as he takes a double take. “Where have you been? How are you?”

Nick is such a sweet guy, like sugary tartness that stings your cheeks when you eat something packed with candy-coated sweetness.

Jumping from the couch I lean in for a hug.

“Hey, Nick. What’s up?” I ask, returning the smile.

It actually has been a while since I’ve seen Nick. I know he’s getting pretty serious with a girl right now and I can understand how time consuming a relationship could really be. I’m pretty sure he also works at a Van’s store nearby and on top of that has school work. I understand how easily it is to be MIA.

However, next year he’ll be one of my roommates.

Prior to scheduling our upperclassmen dorms Calum, Ashton, and I decided that we clearly wanted to live together but we needed a fourth person to fill out all the rooms or we couldn’t sign up to live on campus. Our best choice to fill that spot was Nick. We all really liked him and Ashton said he was the perfect roommate to live with. Nick beats to his own drum and does his own thing anyway so it seemed like the perfect fit.

Nick and I begin to talk about what we’ve been doing recently. He even asks about Luke and I roll my eyes, continuing to discuss how excited I am about living with him next year. Nick dives immediately into talking about the following semester and I begin to drown out his words as I pick up the remote control resting in the spot where I was previously sitting.

Ashton and Nick banter back and forth for an hour until Nick decides he’s going to visit his girlfriend since she’s out of class.

“He’s whipped,” Ashton says immediately after Nick closes the door behind him.

I cock my head at Ashton, not bothering to pause our game. “Oh, _he’s_ whipped?” I persecute.

Ashton shakes his head, confused.

“Are you implying that I, me, Ashton Irwin, is –

“Yes!” I shout. “And I’m not saying you’re a slave to just Violet, to the whole female population, my friend.”

“Oh _stop_ ,” Ashton says pausing our game. “And don’t talk down to me either. You’re turning into Calum thinking that your words make you superior.” Ashton is laughing, but his words kind of sting. I stop.

Ridicule has gotten me in trouble once again.

“Hey, I forgot to ask. How was your Saturday night? I kinda got the gist of it from Cal yesterday in class. How you had to leave early and stuff, but I heard about Luke and, well… yeah,” Ashton says. He doesn’t look away from our zombie game but I can tell there’s concern in his voice, that he actually cares about what happened and basically about Luke’s well-being at this point.

I tell Ash everything, down to every disgusting detail. The absolute mess that was Luke Hemmings. The horror that ran through my head. How I was able to think of the worst possible scenario and only focus on that.

“Michael, you’re so too cute. You just care so much about everyone,” Ashton teases. I respond by knocking his controller out of his hands and feel a sense of triumph rush through my veins. “Uncalled for, Michael,” he says.

A minute passes before Ashton says something else.

“I’m serious though. We were all there for Calum those two times, especially you. I guess it being Luke might be worse, although Cal is your best friend. I don’t know… You just seem to be a magnet for extremely intoxicated miscreants, Michael. Might wanna get that checked out.”

“Yeah, well thanks I guess.” I know Ashton means well but I don’t necessarily know what to say. I mean, I wasn’t just going to leave Luke throwing up on rose bushes outside a stranger’s dorm room at midnight.

Ashton and I continue our zombie battle for hours and even though it’s Ashton completing the levels while I die within the first ten seconds because I have a shitty gun and Ashton doesn’t do anything to help me, he doesn’t give up. He drudgingly carries our character’s team to the safe place or whatever. And I thought that reaching this goal was it. Ashton tells me otherwise.

I take this opportunity to leave Ashton’s firm grasp on my love for video games.

“Okay, Ashton I’m going to head out of here I need to go do laundry. I haven’t done it in, well, a while.”

“I have practice soon anyways so that‘s fine.”

Although my love for video games is greater than Calum’s love for soccer or Ashton’s infatuation with bandanas, I’m really not interested right now and I actually do need complete some laundry or I’m going to be moving out with dirty clothes from almost three weeks and that’s probably not… good.

Going back home I realize Calum is at class, astronomy I believe and won’t be home until much later since he has soccer practice.

As I sort through some dirty clothes, I think about how much I really want Calum to be part of the school’s official soccer team. I know he’s good enough. I’m not saying that because he’s basically my best friend. It’ll do so much for his ego, like he needs it, but I can’t imagine him without soccer in his life. I mean it’s even to the point where the only videogame he plays is FIFA. The guy even bought it so he could force us all to play on Ashton’s console. He’s authoritative without being mean, he has fine leadership qualities for a team player, he’s approachable and personable. He’d be a great addition to that team.

I should write Calum’s resume.

Creating a balancing act between my laundry basket and arms, I walk out my door and eventually reach for the handle leading to the laundry room, careful that no clothes spill over the top of the basket. I gently swear under my breath from heaving the door open with such dramatic flair. I glance towards the only character in the back of the room, a dryer door is shielding the stranger’s face. But those broad shoulders and black jeans look oddly familiar…

“No fucking way,” I gasp under my breath. He cocks his head behind the door of the machine confused at the sound of my voice.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Luke laughs, just as I do. Of course Luke and I would find each other out of everyone, and anywhere. “So what are these chances?”

I shrug. “I have no clue.” My basket drops to the floor, the plastic smacking the ground with a thud. Opening the washing machine I jam all the clothes to the brim, pushing everything and slamming the door for good measure. After measuring the amount of detergent needed, I watch the water trickle down the clear window of the washer, indicating that I indeed successfully started my laundry cycle correctly.

From behind I hear Luke cluck his tongue. “You know,” Luke begins to say as I turn around. He’s leaning against the dryers on the other side of the room. His arms folded and he gnaws on his lip. “It’s kinda hot watching you do this whole domesticated stuff.”

I feel myself roll my eyes. “Are you really turned on that easily?”

Luke throws back a laugh.

He saunters over and pecks my cheek, they begin to flush and he notices. I’m so embarrassed that he has this utter control over these impulses. I absolutely hate it.

Luke’s lips graze my neck, now sending shivers over my body. There’s no control, and I feel chaos raging inside of me.

“Do you want to get some dinner while we wait?” Luke whispers in my ear.

Meeting his eyes I reply, “Is this you talking dirty to me?”

Again, a loose laugh escapes Luke’s throat as he opens the door for us to leave.

On our way to the cafeteria I count the seconds that Luke lasts making a joke or pun. Mostly allude to me going down on him or vice versa. Although at some time along the path he points at a bunch of flowers and says, “When kissing flowers, tulips are better than one” and I feel myself smile so hard my cheeks sting. I refuse to give Luke the satisfaction of knowing damn well his puns are increasingly coming cleverer.  

As we sit down Luke begins to shovel food in his mouth. I can barely understand him when he asks how my test was today.

“I totally passed. I know I would. You’d probably like that class. The professor is really cool.”

“Is it psychology 201? Because that’s what I’m taking next semester.”

My jaw immediately comes unhinge as I swallow. What did he just say? I recall what O’Connell told me a few days ago. B only had two openings for that psychology class.

Glancing around the table I whisper, “No,” under my breath as I tug on my hair. “No way,” I repeat, meeting Luke’s eyes. His brows are furrowed and has his fork in his mouth.

“Whaft?” Luke says, chewing his words with his food once again.

“No way,” I laugh shaking my head. “What time do you have it at?”

Luke stares at the ceiling, squinting his eyes as if he’d find the answer written on the blank white space above him. “Uh, I think it’s the class on Wednesday mornings,” he concludes. “Why? What’s with the reaction?” he says pointing to my face.

I close my eyes. Of course.

“How did we not realize this when I mentioned it… That’s the class I’m a TA for next semester,” I say in disbelief.

A small grin appears on Luke’s face. “Oh _really_? Does that mean that you can give me A’s and stuff?”

“No, but I’m sure if B knows that we’re friends she’ll go easy on you.”

“Friends?” Luke remarks, smirking. The word slipping through his teeth. Like he needs to remind me where we stand.

I kick him underneath the table. Hard. My black boot hitting his shin with a smack. Luke winces on impact and immediately starts rubbing his leg. He looks at me, hurt, but I can only roll my eyes.

“Oh quit being a baby,” I say. “How are you feeling?” I add quickly as we begin to put our dishes away before leaving the cafeteria. As we exit the double doors, we are interrupted by Ashton and Calum walking in, their Lost Boys jerseys worn on their backs. They shout and holler at us as they notice us first. They tell us we need to come to their last game tomorrow since they made it to the final round. A smile takes up Calum’s whole face and I can tell he’s excited and ecstatic and thrilled about his recreational team. Soccer means so much to Calum, nothing makes him anymore genuinely happy.

As we depart, Luke’s hands find their way into his jacket pockets.

“I’m fine. I feel better. This weekend was so shitty. I’m so sorry,” Luke apologizes. “I feel terrible. I hope you know that.”

Our pace is slower than normal. One foot follows directly in front of the other as we make our way back to the laundry room. The sunset setting along the horizon in front of us.

“I know.”

Silence floats among us until we actually reach the laundry room. Then the surrounding noise is that of the machines sounding like they’re going haywire.

“You realize we met in a fucking laundry room at three in the morning, right?” I ask breaking the deafening silence that grew between us. Luke laughs, mostly because I think he doesn’t know what to say. “What were you even doing here at that time?”

 _I_ was waiting for Calum to come home. I don’t ever intend of staying up that late when Calum goes out, but it does, however, ease my anxiety to know he got home safely after partying. I also didn’t have anything better to do. I was watching reruns of some sitcom back to back on Netflix and I needed a break.

Anyway the laundry room is always so busy during the day. It’s rare that an open machine would pop up when the sun’s out. Three AM seems like the only reasonable choice here.

“I was finishing up a paper that was due the next day,” Luke says reaching for the back of the machine for the strays of his clothes.

I feel myself give Luke a perplexed look. He notices. “Oh, it was for this scholarship I have. It was basically the size of a small novel.”

My face contorts further as Luke explains. “Yeah, I forgot to tell you. I’m kind of a genius.”

“What?” I shout, my voice echoing around the entire room.

“I don’t know what to tell you.” Luke shrugs. “I currently have a 3.9 GPA and I’m basically trying to get the school to buy me.”

“I’m dating a genius. You’re like the real life Peter Parker.”

“Stop right there. I’m allowing this to feed any of your kinky shit you’re into,” Luke retorts, hitting me with one of his warm t-shirts. It brushes the side of my cheek and I can’t help to notice the slight smell of Luke. It’s toasty and nice.

After I switch my clothes to the dryer and Luke retrieves his own from the machines, we part ways. He tells me that he has work to do before tomorrow and walks off to his wonderful complex near the prettier part of the dorms while I’m forced to go back to Calum.

Once I enter my front door I hear a grown man scream from our bedroom followed by Calum’s voice shushing the said shout.

“ _Calum_ ,” I say in a sing song tone. “You better not have any _friends_ in our room.”

Walking into our bedroom I see Ashton laying on my bed, sitting up right. He gives me a slight wave as I enter the doorway. Suddenly, a pillow abruptly disrupts our exchange of hellos as it comes soaring from the adjacent corner, smacking Ashton right in the face. The blow actually knocks his bright yellow bandana off.

“What the hell, Calum!” Ashton shouts. “You said that one Michael came home it was game over!”

They guys continue to explain to me that while I was out on my cafeteria and laundry date, they were having a pillow fight. I can tell that it was a pretty intense battle since they’re practically sweating and gasping for breath. Even when I take a seat at my desk they continue to chuck pillows at one another. Their giggles drowning out against swearing. It’s hard to believe that these boys are technically adults attending college. It’s also hard to believe that this isn’t ending in a bloodbath.

This continues until Ashton flops on my bed.

“Truce, Calum! Truce!” he shouts, covering his face with a pillow. His voice drowning becoming muffled. “No more,” he adds, peeking his hazel eyes over the top as one last pillow flies towards his face.

“Okay, truce,” Calum says, jumping on his own bed.

Finally, quiet.

After pulling some of my homework from my bag I notice Ashton staring at me in my per phial vision; his arm propped up, holding his head.

“What?” I ask tersely.

“How as your date with Luke?” Ashton says grinning. His dimples the size of the ocean expanding.

“What?” I repeat again. “How’d you know I was with him? Wait, don’t answer that.” The guys crack up. I could only imagine the responses in their head. _You only have two friends, Michael_ , they’d taunt. “It was fine. He’s fine. We’re fine.”

“Oh? Are you really? Say ‘fine’ one more time, Michael,” Calum laughs. “You’re so cute with your little crush!” Calum’s voice mimicking baby-talk. I almost gag, but besides that I have nothing to say.

I loosely pay attention to the banter that goes on between Calum and Ashton. Something about what would win in a fight; a flamingo or a penguin. Ashton says penguin while Calum argues for the flamingo. Of course Calum is correct, but I can’t acknowledge that out loud. Glancing over to Ashton he’s now laying on his back, noticeably comfortable on my bed. He throws my stuffed Spiderman in the air, practically hitting the ceiling, and I watch as it glides down towards his palms. He’s still aggressively arguing his points with Calum and I can’t help but transfixed on his tactic of detailing his debate.

“You’re fucking persuasive you know that?” Calum scoffs from the corner. “You almost got me there for a second. You’re too good with speaking to people. It’s annoying.”

This launches Ashton into another diatribe; demanding that Calum is the annoyingly savvy one when it comes to rhetoric and words. Which is absolutely true, Calum uses his carefully constructed sentences to get what he wants. Ashton uses words to prove a point.

Ashton delves into this topic for another half hour. Amazing that someone can talk for a solid thirty minutes. It’s like watching someone recite a lengthy ten paged persuasive essay off the top of their head.

Every once in a while Calum will try to interrupt.

“No, when I say that I don’t mean actually what I say. I –

But he’s not quick enough with his words. Ashton interrupts, “Let me finish Hood!”

And it’s amazing at the end of the day they don’t hate each other.

Once Ashton is actually finished with his speech he huffs and folds his arms, leaning against the headboard of my bed. “Okay, I’m done,” he says, flashing a toothy smile in Calum’s direction. Cal only returns with a sneering glare in which Ashton responds with a pillow soaring in the air, directly hitting Calum in the face. “Finally a bull’s eye!” Ashton yells, shooting his fist in the air out of satisfaction of his aim.

“Lucky shot,” Calum mumbles, slamming the pillow to the side of the wall.

Ashton glances over at the clock on my desk. It’s nine and he says he better go. He’s planning on writing a part of a paper he has due later this week. We say our goodbyes as he heads out of our dorm, calling out to me that I better go to the final Lost Boys game this week. He expects me to wear his jersey, a bandana to match his, and booty shorts that reveal my amazing white thighs. He claims it’s a formula for the best cheerleaders.

Not that I can’t disagree to his argument, but I try to explain that I simply don’t own any revealing shorts.

Ashton says he’ll work on it.

Once Ashton is out the door, Calum looks over at me. “Are you serious? Please tell me you’re serious. I’m going to die if you show up at our game wearing practically nothing.”

“You know that I love to keep secrets, Cal,” I wink. Calum bursts out in laughter. “But of course, I’ll go to the last game.” For a second I question bringing up the school’s soccer team. I mean Cal hasn’t even brought it up to me. Fuck, I’m doing it anyway. “So, a little birdie told me that you’re going out for the soccer team?” My voice is light, playful, basically joking. I even wiggle my eyebrows for good measure.

Calum throws back his head and makes a squawking noise. “No! Please tell me Ashton didn’t tell you? That idiot has such a big mouth. I can’t fucking tell him anything.” Calum tilts his head down, meeting my eyes from across the room now. “Well, I didn’t want to tell you really until I found out if I was on the team because if I told you about the conditioning and stuff you’d be like, ‘Good job, Cal! You’re totally going to make it! You’re great! You’re guaranteed on the team!’ which, and don’t deny it Michael, would be totally true. Then what if I didn’t get on the team? I couldn’t handle your disappointment on top of my own.”

I’m not sure exactly what to reply with so I say, “You’re so adorable, Cal. Listen to you, taking my feelings into account. I’m touched.” I pout.

Calum’s face scrunches. “Fuck off, I’m being serious, but maybe it’s not so bad that you brought it up because I’ve been having some tryouts and well, I made a cut technically, which is really, really good. I just… I don’t know if they’re going to take me just yet when compared to all the other newbies getting recruited. I have a lot of competition.”

I make a face at Calum, holding back telling him that he’ll be fine and totally make the team.

“Well, I’m happy for you. I’m glad you have one stable relationship in your life. You’re going to have a good life with your balls.”

Perfect response.

Calum’s expression tells me that he’s clearly not impressed with my choice of words. He should know by now that my only defense is ridicule and mockery.

The rest of my night is filled with minuscule uneventful developments; texts from the group message forcing my phone to buzz nonstop, finding out that my homework due tomorrow is extended another day, Netflix added another season of a show I binged not too long ago, one of my favorite bands is coming out with a new album in a few months.

Just the small things making today even better.


End file.
